#I really do need someone overseeing my feedings because the way I live is not sustainable

[barbie-nightmare-house]

I was writing my dumb Rust fic in delirium and I entered the godless state of hunger in which my head hurts and I can’t think of anything in the world I would willingly consume

[flamencodiva]

A Different League 1 - Walls

Description: Y/N never experienced the life of luxury. Being the daughter of a hunter never gave her that experience. But what happens when she finds a job working for one of the most prestigious hunting companies in the world?

Word Count: 1960

Beta: @wonder-cole

Warnings: Language, Violence, Angst, Fluff, Smut, Slow Burn (yes, that's a warning), Rivals to Idiots, Idiots to Lovers, Lovers to Idiots.

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Series Masterlist

<< Prologue 

Code Red! Code Red!’

The red lights and alarm sounded throughout the building.

‘Level 10 monster detected.’

Y/N Y/L/N made her way through the hall towards the locker rooms to suit up. As usual, she was part of the ground team, which did all the messy work when hunting monsters for Hunter Corp.

Marching down the hallway, she made her way to the briefing room, grabbing the folder handed to her and reading it right away.

“Think this is the one?” Benny asked, standing by her with his folder.

Y/N shrugged her shoulders, “don’t know. Maybe it is. But according to the data recon has gathered, not likely. If it’s a level ten, then--”

“It’s most likely an Alpha monster,” Ketch interrupted. “Y/N, darling, when are you going to take me up on that offer to wine and dine you?” he asked, trying to flirt with the huntress.

“When hell freezes over, Arthur,” she sighed, “I’ve said it once, and I’ll say it again, my focus is on work, not my--”

“Libido,” Benny and Ketch echoed with matching smiles.

“We know, Cher,” Benny chuckled, “then again I did see you eyeing--”

“You say it, and I hog tie you and castrate you,” Y/N growled, “I lived on a ranch for a good amount of years while dad was taking care of a pack. Don’t think I won’t do it, Benjamin.”

Benny lifted his hands in surrender and chuckled, walking toward his seat on the conference table. Other squad leaders filtered in as they were ready to talk about the Level 10 monster that had appeared. This included the two sons of the CEO, the eldest of the two, Dean, taking a seat next to Y/N.

“Units 1 and 2, you will take the lead on this, “ John Winchester said as he walked into the room, taking a seat at the head of the table. “These two units will oversee operations and capture. I will repeat that,” he said, looking at each unit leader in turn, “capture the target. Our goal is to learn as much as we can before eradicating their species.”

“Do we have the special equipment that I had made for occasions like this?” Y/N asked as she flipped through the different pages, analyzing the data collected. “Do we also know what kind of Alpha we’re dealing with?”

“As of right now, we just know it’s an Alpha. I’m waiting on relay team Gamma to get back with the complete analysis,” John announced, impressed with his top hunter. “But I do want my best teams there in case something goes wrong.”

Y/N simply hummed as she let her mind process the strategy the boss set up. Her boss wasn’t wrong. Her squad, along with Snob, as she liked to call Dean, would be a formidable force. That is if he wasn’t trying to talk about his exploits on a private jet.

No matter where they were, he always had some way of interjecting how nice it is to have money and experience things. Y/N has never had the pleasure of doing. Sure she had the money to do those things now, but she never saw the big deal. It only spurred her annoyance at Snob when he would try to make conversation with her. They had nothing in common, yet he continued to try to talk to her while she ignored him.

After the meeting ended, Y/N made her way back to her room. She was the only one of the squad leaders not to have a place of her own. It was something that didn’t go unnoticed by the other leaders, especially John. Y/N would brush off the comments of her not having a place to unwind away from work. In all honesty, she didn’t know what else to do. She grew up hunting, and she figured living in the facility would give her faster reaction time to save more lives.

As she packed her things, she could feel a pair of eyes on her.

“What do you want?” she called out, never facing the person who stood at her doorway.

“I was wondering--”

“No, Dean. I will not go to whatever fancy place you want to take me to,” she sighed, moving around her room to collect what she would think she would need.

“I’m not, Ketch,” Dean grumbled, “And I know for a fact that you barely leave the compound. You don’t even have your own place.”

“Why do you care, Snob,” she hissed at him. “To someone like you, I’m just a worker. Why do you care that I live in the compound?”

“If this is about the gala, I already apologized,” Dean whined, “What more do you want from me?”

“To let me do my job,” Y/N huffed, slinging her bag over her shoulder and pushing past him, “and right now, my job is to make sure we know what we are dealing with before we go in blind and kill good hunters on a hunch.”

“The recon team--”

“Has been wrong before,” she pointed out, “Your brother has been wrong before and at my expense!”

“Samuel would never-” Dean began.

“He has, and he did, Dean,” she argued. “That scar on my back was not because I thought it would be fun to ignore that there was another Rugaru.”

She glared at him, “It was because I was told by your brother that there was only one when there were, in fact, three of them.”

Dean stayed silent as she walked away from him and towards the garage. Never in his life had a woman angered and enamored him before. The minute he had laid eyes on Y/N three years ago at the gala, he could feel his heart pound in his chest. His insecurities had gotten the better of him, and he had to play the millionaire asshole. When she didn’t bow down to his charm, he was intrigued.

After a year of training, moving up the ranks, and being her partner, Dean learned that Y/N was all business. Not like any of the girls he ever dated or bedded. Y/N had a drive, but what it was, she wouldn’t say. Y/N began to distance herself more from him for every case they had, only communicating if it had to do with the hunt and to turn down his invitations.

Dean made it to his dorm with a deep sigh and began packing his things, hoping he could try to break through the walls Y/N built with this hunt.

Looking at her watch, Y/N wondered where Charlie was? Usually, Charlie would be her research partner on cases like these. Well, Charlie is always her choice as a research partner. The woman was a genius when it came to technology and making her way into security footage to search for monsters.

Y/N didn’t notice as Charlie walked up behind her. Most of Y/N’s attention was on the recon folder. She was trying to assess what the team had found.

“You know,” Charlie said as she approached Y/N, “You’re really taking this not thinking with your libido thing a bit too far.”

“I am focused on my work,” Y/N replied, never taking her eyes off the file. “I have a feeling we’re dealing with a Shifter-Alpha.”

“What gives you that idea?” Charlie asked as she sat down next to Y/N.

“It’s the fact that in every house reported, Mom and Dad are dead,” Y/N pointed out as she pushed the folder towards Charlie. “But the baby goes missing,” she pointed to the details in every story.

“Huh,” Charlie let out, tilting her head to the side as she looked over the notes, “I guess that means we’re heading out early?”

“No,” Y/N sighed, “going to talk to John first.”

“Really?” Charlie gasped, “you’re usually gung-ho about going when you have a hunch like this?”

“Okay, I’m a hunter, not suicidal,” Y/N drawled.

It didn’t take long for Y/N to point out the details in the story and voice her suspicions to John. Of course, when John agreed with her suspicions, he organized all quad leaders and put his plan in motion. Nearing the next house that Alpha would attack, Dean and Y/N placed themselves in charge of moving in to capture the monster.

‘Leader 1,’ came Dean’s voice through the walkie-talkie, ‘we have movement inside the house. I repeat, we have movement inside the house.’

“Copy that, Leader 2,” she responded before taking a breath, “Red-Recon, Red-Recon, what do we have on the video feed?”

‘Can’t I have a cooler nickname?’ Charlie whined through the intercom, ‘like Red Hawk!’

Y/N rolled her eyes, letting out a chuckle before responding, “Okay, Red Hawk, can you just tell me what the video feed shows?”

‘You were right, Leader 1,’ Charlie confirmed, ‘glowing eyes in the feed. We’re dealing with a nest of shifters. We also are seeing a large nursery through the micro-cam footage.’

“Shit,” Y/N cursed, “we might need to abort and come up with--”

‘You are going to do nothing of the sort, Leader 1,’ Samuel’s voice came through, ‘we’re here to do a job. We will kill every last one of them if we have to.’

“Samuel, there are kids in there. No matter what the species, kids are kids!” Y/N argued.

‘That’s Recon-Leader to you, Leader 1,’ he barked.

‘Recon-leader,’ Dean’s voice came through, ‘I agree with Leader 1. We are only here for the Alpha. We need this to be a quick and clean operation.’

“I don’t need your help, Leader 2,” Y/N growled. “If Recon-Leader wants us to go through the paperwork explaining why the squads changed Leader Prime’s plan, he can do it himself.”

‘What are we going to do, Leaders 1 and 2?’

Y/N closed her eyes, knowing full well the consequences of her actions, “we are going to go as planned, capture the Alpha, take down as many shifters as you can.”

‘Y/N,’ Dean called over the com, ‘I think your instincts were--’

“I’ll deal with the fucking consequences,” she called back, “we move on my mark.”

To say the operation was easy was a big fat fucking lie. Just as Y/N predicted, getting to the Alpha with all the other Shifters in their way was a challenge. So much so that they had to call Squads 3 and 4 for backup. It took longer than it should have for the team to capture the Alpha, and that was after Y/N was full of bruises and deep scratches. The nursery with the children was empty when they searched it. Some Shifters made it out with the abrupt change in plans, while others were killed trying to let them escape.

Once Y/N was patched up, she prepared herself for the yelling she knew John would give her. Even if they got the Alpha, the method they used almost cost the lives of good hunters. Y/N had made sure to try and save as many hunters from death as she could.

“Y/N!” she heard as she walked out of the medical tent.

Rolling her eyes, she turned away from Dean, who was jogging towards her.

“Thanks, Jess,” she called to the doctor on staff that stitched her up.

“Damn it, Y/N. Please wait!” Dean called out to her, placing a hand on her shoulder. “I talked to Samuel and--”

“Save it, Snob,” Y/N growled. “I am going to head to my room in the hotel and write up the report. Don’t worry about Douchebag. I will take all the heat on this.”

“Why do you do that?” Dean growled, “Why can’t you let me tell Dad about--”

“Leader Prime,” Y/N barked, “when we are on the job, you address him by his title.”

Dean let out an audible groan, “can you take the stick out of your ass for just one fucking minute!”

Y/N turned to glare at him, “what could you possibly say to me? That you’re going to use your privilege to get Daddy not to punish me because your brother was being an ass? Please spare me. I’m used to this. You and Samuel get away with everything while the rest of us have to struggle!”

“You are such a bitch, Y/L/N. No wonder people don’t want to hang around you,” Dean spat, his eyes widening at the realization of what he said. “Y/N I’m--”

“At least people don’t hang around me for my money,” she spat, “leave me alone. Why are you even talking to me, Snob? We have nothing in common, you live in an ivory tower, and I live in the mud. You stay with your people, and I’ll stay with mine.”

Dean watched her walk away, unsure what to say or how to fix what he did. He hated himself for the way things went down. Dean should have talked to Samuel about his behavior, but Samuel was just as stubborn and headstrong as their father. Dean knew he could only do one thing, and that was talking to his father about what happened, whether Y/N liked it or not.

Dean stayed silent as he contemplated how to fix things with Y/N.ht--’

“I don’t care what Samuel says. The operation could have gone smoother if he had just listened to Y/N. You can’t fire her--”

‘Calm down, son. No one is getting fired. Especially not my best hunter,’ John interrupted. ‘Now, calmly, tell me what happened.’

Dean began at the beginning, telling his father all about how there were more Shifters than just the Alpha and how Y/N wanted to re-adjust the plan to lessen any casualties. As Dean continued to recount the tale, he never noticed Samuel walking in. The younger brother crossed his arms, scowling at his older brother.

“Yes, sir,” Dean said before hanging up the phone.

“You called, Dad?” Samuel let out, making Dean jump.

“Don’t sneak up on me like that, Samuel,” He scolded.

“Don’t, Dean,” Samuel huffed, “You called to tattle on me? You know as well as I do that you should be Leader 1 no matter what a stupid test said all those years ago.”

“Is that what this is about? Is that why you have this grudge against Y/N?” Dean asked, raising an eyebrow at his brother.

“She is nothing but a--”

“Don’t say it, Samuel,” Dean growled.

“A second-rate hunter with no class,” Samuel continued, towering over his older brother. “You need to forget about her, Dean, and learn to take her position from her.” he let out a huff, “besides, she dresses in nothing but second-hand clothing. Does she even know what designer clothing is? Does she even care about the clothes that she wears and how she presents herself?”

“Samuel, her choice in clothing doesn’t mean she is incapable of being a good Leader. Besides, what she wears is her business. And what good would taking the position from her by force do? How would being Leader 1 make me any more capable of running the company?” Dean crossed his arms, staring right into his brother’s eyes.

“For one, it would show Dad that you have the skills to lead,” Samuel huffed. “Y/N couldn’t even stand up to me after what I said. She could have tried harder to go over my head. She has no leadership skills.”

“No leadership skills?” Dean said, his voice rising in anger. “You call putting her life on the line to make sure no one dies, poor leadership skills?” Dean shook his head, giving his brother a disappointed look. “Do you realize that she didn’t go over your head because she feels you would use nepotism to get away with it?”

Samuel tilted his head in confusion, “what? Since when? I--”

“Dad spoils us, Samuel. You know he does, but it’s different in hunting and our lives, and Y/N doesn’t know that. She already thinks we’re pompous snobs.”

“So?” Samuel chuckled, “I love that we live a life of luxury. Someone like her is never going to understand us. Besides, why are you trying to get her approval?”

“I am not looking for her approval, but I am trying to establish a civil working relationship,” Dean said, turning away from Samuel.

“You had had eyes on her since the ball all those years ago,” Samuel chuckled, “‘if you want her that badly, woo her and leave her. Or you could take Bela Talbot on her offer.”

“Bela?” Dean shook his head in disgust, “she is nothing but a low-grade black market dealer. “

“One who has had her eyes on you for a while,” Samuel said, smiling slyly at his brother. “You don’t have to make a business deal with the woman, just bed her and be done with her. She also knows her way around good scotch. Let’s not forget that Bela also has better fashion sense than Y/N. ”

Dean contemplated the thought of having Bela in his bed. Bela had more than shown she wanted to lay with him, wanting to have Dean pleasure her in the ways he was taught. Shaking his head, Dean sat on the couch of the double room suite he shared with Samuel.

“I’d rather fuck a porcupine than Bela, Samuel,” Dean sighed, leaning back to place his hands over his face.

“Then at least go find a sweet lounge fly and bring her up to have your way with her,” Samuel said as he walked over to his bedroom, “I mean, we should put the skills Dad had us learn for a reason, right?”

Dean stayed silent as he contemplated how to fix things with Y/N.

Chapter 2

Tags in the Reblog

[ad1thi]

the memories bring back (you)

part of the 1000 lives ‘verse, aka my: Bucky and Tony are soulmates and Tony gets captured by HYDRA and they fall in love but then after TWS Bucky escapes but Tony doesn’t and now Bucky is desperately trying to find Tony and save his soulmate - verse.

this is a timestamp of Tony and Bucky’s time at HYDRA. reading the first fic in the series is recommended but not necessarily required to understand this fic. you can always read this one first and then read the first fic later on

//

13 kills (1991)

The boy appears to be attempting to escape, as he presses his feet against the wall and tugs at his chains over and over, even though it must be hurting him to do so. Briefly, the Asset wonders if it should explain to the boy that escape is not possible, that HYDRA does not allow for such things, but it has not been told to speak to the boy, so it says nothing.

“You could help, you know,” the boy spits out, and it takes a couple of seconds for the Asset to realise that the boy is addressing it. “Bet that metal arm of yours would come in real handy right about now. My father isn’t going to pay my ransom, he never does, so you might as well KILL ME!” The boy tilts his head back and shouts the last two words, talking to people who aren’t in the room.

“What does this kind of job pay anyway?” the boy asks. “Is it really worth it? Stealing teenagers from their dorm rooms? You must really be important to them if they fitted you with a prosthesis like that.” The boy eyes its metal arm, but unlike when the Scientist used to eye the arm, there is no shudder down the Asset’s spine. It doesn’t feel the urge to flinch or cower away because there’s no spite in the boy’s look - for all the vitriol he’s spitting - only curiosity.

“I would love to get my hands on that thing,” the boy says, more to himself than anyone else, before giving the Asset a slow once-over, “I’d like to get my hands on all of you, if you weren’t some sort of creepy kidnapper. Rhodey’s gonna lose his mind when he finds out I have a hard-on for my kidnapper. This is some Stockholm Syndrome type shit.”

The boy looks like he’s about to say more, but he’s interrupted by another presence in the room. The Asset looks away from the boy, and it’s back instantly stiffens when it recognises the Handler. It jumps to its feet, sticking a foot out to still the rattling metal bed-frame, and instantly assumes parade-rest.

“At ease, soldier, ” the Handler says in an amused tone, a half smile on his lips. He doesn’t, however, make any motion for the Asset to sit, or any indication that his words are any more than just that, words, so the Asset remains standing, hands clasped behind its back.

“Anthony Stark,” the Handler says, crouching down on his knees, and reaching out to grip the boy’s jaw firmly. To his credit, the boy stares defiantly back at the Handler, and the Asset thinks that if it weren’t for the hand pressing into his cheeks, the boy might actually attempt to spit on the Handler.

“Pierce,” the boy musters out, in between gritted teeth, “If you wanted to talk, you could’ve just called ahead. There was no need for all this.” The boy waves his hands around, as best he can since they’re being weighed down by chains, “I would’ve scheduled you in.”

“Now we both know that isn’t true,” the Handler says, almost fondly, “What was it you said when I sent Fury looking for you last month? That you’d keep us on hold just to watch the line blink. That’s highly unprofessional Tony, surely your father taught you better than that.”

The boy, Tony, attempts to smile. “He did. Never did put much stock into the old man’s lessons. Bit too old fashioned for my taste.”

The Handler tsks, clicking his tongue to the roof of his mouth, “I wouldn’t be so quick to dismiss him, my boy. It’s a shame, because he’s no longer around to drop those pearls of wisdom on you. I would really start cherishing those memories. What is that saying, ‘you don’t know what you have until it’s gone’?’”

The Handler drops his grip on Tony’s jaw, and pushes himself off the floor, dusting his knees. Some of the dirt falls on Tony’s face, and Tony shakes his head vigorously, closing and opening his eyes rapidly. He’s shaking, much like he was when the Asset first entered, but this time, the Asset thinks it’s from anger.

“Asset!” The Handler barks, and it stiffens. “Mission Report. December 16, 1991.”

“Mission: Extraction and Execution. Primary Target: Super-soldier serum,” the Asset intones, “Secondary Target: Howard Stark. Collateral: Maria Stark.”

Tony inhales a sharp breath, exhaling in a splutter like he’s being choked, but the Handler pays him no mind, so the Asset continues.

“Serum extracted at 0200 hours. Secondary target neutralised. Collateral neutralised. Return to base at 0500 hours. Mission successful.”

The Handler nods, once at the Asset, and another time, more firmly, at Tony.

“Like I said,” the Handler says to Tony, “you never know what you have until it’s gone.” Tony doesn’t seem to be paying the Handler any mind, instead glaring at the Asset, and doesn’t even notice when the Handler leaves the room. There’s an outwardly calm that’s overtaken Tony that it is stark contrast to the way he was shivering with anger, and yet, the Asset does not think he is actually calm, not in the slightest.

“You killed my mother, you son of a bitch,” Tony finally murmurs, “I’m gonna rip your heart out and feed it to you.”

**

15 kills (1992)

It is unusual for the Handler to oversee the defrosting process. Normally, when the Asset is brought out of cryo, it is only the Scientist that is waiting for him, flanked by two agents. Occasionally, the Doctor will make an appearance too, if it has been particularly long since the Asset has been wiped.

The Chair means that the Asset does not remember much of anything, but it has come to recognise the tug in it’s gut, that informs it that something is amiss. It should probably inform the Doctor of this malfunction, but it is a feeling that has served the Asset well on previous Missions, so it does not say anything.

It opens its eyes despite the cold, blinking away the remnants of ice that have collected on it’s eyelashes, and waits until it is ordered to sit up. It is when the Asset sits up that it notices the Handler, and the boy standing beside the Handler - arms handcuffed behind him and an old cloth shoved into his mouth.

There is something vaguely familiar about the boy, but the Asset does not know what.

When the Handler realises that he has the Asset’s attention, he raises the hand not resting on the boy’s shoulder, wiggling his fingers. The Handler is smiling, and muttering something to the boy that is causing a complicated amount of emotions on his face, and even makes the boy shuffle forward as if to approach the Asset - before the Handler pulls him back.

“Dr. Barnett, would you mind so kind as to prep the Asset for the Chair?” the Handler asks, even though his tone suggests that it isn’t a request. “I do believe our newest guest requires a demonstration on the repercussions of non-compliance.”

The Asset stiffens ever so slightly at the mention of the Chair but otherwise makes no indication that it is aware of what is happening.

It has been defrosted in the Recalibration Room, so it is simply a matter of stepping out of the cryo chamber, and walking across the room to the Chair. Without instruction, the Asset spreads out its hands and allows itself to be strapped down, relaxing its jaw and clenching down on the plastic bit that is fitted between its teeth.

The Chair rocks back ever so slightly, just as the harness comes down and attaches itself to both of the Asset’s temples, and the Asset involuntarily closes its eyes as electricity courses through its body, forcing it to arch it’s back and lift it’s head up in a silent scream.

“You see, my boy?” it dimly hears the Handler, almost inaudible over the sound of blood rushing through its ears, “Zola wanted us to Wipe you, turn you into an automaton just like Barnes. But I knew better, I knew that there were easier ways to gain your allegiance.”

The pain ebbs and flows, as the Scientist modulates the dials. The Asset is granted a small reprieve, no longer than a breath, before the electricity is ramped up again.

“Stop! Can’t you see you’re hurting him? Stop please! I’ll do whatever you want!”

Just as quick as the electricity is increased, it is abruptly stopped, and the Asset sags against the Chair, taking big, heaving breaths through the bit in its mouth.

“So we have a deal then?” the Handler asks, and a voice that the Asset cannot place replies, “Yes. You stop, you stop torturing him like this, and I’ll do whatever you want. No more fights.”

The Handler is looming over the Asset’s line of sight, presumably having moved closer while the Asset was being Wiped, and he’s smiling.

“Brilliant,” the Handler is looking at the Asset, but the words are meant for someone else. “First order of business - you’re going to upgrade the Asset’s arm. I don’t think it’s been worked on since the 1950s, and that’s an awfully long time, don’t you think?”

“Soldier,” the Handler says, and now the Handler is talking to the Asset, “It’s time you met your new partner in crime. Anthony Edward Stark, Designation: Assistant.”

The Asset spits out the bit, because its hands are still strapped down, and repeats, “Anthony Edward Stark, Designation: Assistant.”

Next to the Handler, the boy, the Assistant, attempts to smile, but it comes out as a grimace.

continue reading on ao3!!

[haifengg]

Victon Falling for their Childhood Friend

Summary: He’s known you since you were kids and because fate moves in mysterious ways you have never been apart from each other for long.

Genre: Fluff! // Crack if you squint

-> Seungwoo. He is very career oriented. Because he loves what he is doing. It plays a very important role in his life. Well, it actually is his life more or less. But that also means that he barely ever gets to see his parents and therefore hasn’t seen you in ages. But when he did one Christmas Day he was so surprised about how much you changed. Not just physically but also mentally. The two of you met at the grocery store where your mother had send you to get more ingredients for dinner and he bumps into you in the frozen aisle. At first you didn’t recognise him but then you start to chat like in the old days. Of course you had heard about his career but when you tell him that you never found the time to check it out or google it he gets a little sulky. But you clear it up quickly: “Its not that I am not interested! Your job sounds so interesting! Its just that I have been insanely busy ever since I graduated … you know we are launching this new collection next spring and I am still up our suppliers .. well you know-“, you sigh. “I will definitely go and check it out once I find the time somehow!” After listening to you carefully and reassuring you that he fully understands how it is not having time for anything he asks you if you like your job and your eyes suddenly sparkle. “I do! Yes, I really do. It is very different from what I thought I would be doing but its very interesting and every day is different. There are so many things to learn and to take care of, I really feel needed, you know?” Even though the frozen peas in his hands start to melt he would let you go on and on about it because he suddenly realises that you are just like him. In love with your job. Something he never thought he would see on someone else. That exhilarating passion. Being 100% committed. Then suddenly he notices all these other little things about you. He truly started to see you in a different light.

-> Byungchan. One day he sits on the porch of his parents’ house, having ice cream like a grown-up. He’s home because of a huge birthday in his family. Just sitting there and watching the neighbours getting some gardening done, as suddenly an actually pricey car pulls up in the drive way next door. Some woman gets out and he Is fully taken aback to the point where he forgets about his ice cream. It is like this scene in movies. The protagonist sees someone special and their breath is completely taken away. Except that’s no. movie, Byungchan is no protagonist and that person he is looking at is you. Which he notices himself the second you take off your sunglasses and wave at him.

“Byungchan! You’re home?”

You walk over and up the path to his house in your office work clothes and Byungchan has to gather all his remaining brain cells to form a: “Y/N? Is that you?” You nod and pull him into a hug as you reached him. Like you always did when you were kids. “Yes of course! Oh my god you got so tall what did they feed you in college?” His heart dropped as you wrapped your arms around his neck and he laughed nervously.

What was he supposed to reply?? All he could think about was how gorgeous you had become. How independent you looked. Not to mention how impressed he was by that car lmao.

-> Seungsik. Since he was your neighbour all the way back, you have seen each other growing up. But more importantly: Seungsik has seen your error and trial progress of learning how to cook. Its not that you invited him over to cook for him but as teenagers he would randomly come over and by chance witness some of your great failures.

But now you were living in different cities, not being neighbours anymore but still close friends. One night he calls you, asking if he could come visit you next week since he was in town for a meeting. Of course you happily agree, promising him to cook dinner. After hanging up and the entire following days Seungsik was anticipating his visit, curiously awaiting to get to experience your now probably very good cooking skills.

Eventually he arrived at your place 20 minutes early because there was less traffic that he was calculating with. And when he rang at your door you just bolted there to open it, quickly gave him a hug and ran back into the kitchen. Because there was smoke everywhere.

“What’S going on?” He asked following you but all you replied was: “Can you take the batteries out of the smoke alarm? I don’t need the fire department to show up at my door again.”

“Again??” He did what he was told and eventually the two of you stood in the kitchen, eying a briquette like something int the casserole. 

“I am so sorry. I really tried my best this time. I wanted to impress you. But we can absolutely order something! My treat.” You say and chuckle completely embarrassed. But Seungsik waved it off. “Don’t worry. I can make something?” Even though you insist on ordering in he sat you down on your own sofa and somehow magically created something very home made to eat for the two of you within 15 minutes.

Who are we kidding? This is not how Seungsik notices he likes you but you notice that you like him. 

-> Sejun. I don’t know how to put this into many words because it is very simple: Even after graduating high school and only seeing each other a couple of times a year in your home town - you’re still kicking his ass like you used to too. But now you’re hot. It’s as easy as that. During elementary and middle school - even in high school - the two of you were best friends who never ever thought about having feelings for each other. Of course some of his friends asked you out occasionally and most of the girls in class envied you for your relationship with him and the other boys but you never thought much of it and neither did he. But now that you’re in you 20s and still act around him like you used to things begin to change for him. Especially since you  fought in your parent’s kitchen over the last piece of honeycomb your mother made. You held him headlock and he was not just turning red because the blood was rushing to his head but also because he was smothered by your boobs (that he now had to acknowledge). When you led go of him he was out of breath because of your awesome headlock technique. And because he now looked at you teasing him about the honeycomb and he, for the first time ever, noticed saw you as a woman. Not just as his friend.

-> Heochan. It had probably been 4 years since you last saw each other at the high school graduation. And you were close friends back then. Maybe not best friends but very close. And he probably always had a thing for you but either a) Never admitted it to himself or b) never went after it. 

But when he saw you at the pre-school he knew he had to. Because you somehow transformed  into his ideal type. He stopped by the pre-school to surprise pick up his nephew. And he never thought he would meet you there overseeing the pick up of your students.

“You became a teacher?” He asked you before even greeting and as you turned around your eyes lit up. “Heochan! Oh my god I has been so long.” You chat for a bit and he explains why he’s there. Eventually you were still at work and busy but you agree on meeting that weekend for coffee. So you got back to work but Heochan didn’t actually leave right away but observed you talking to the kids and the parents until his nephew begged him to finally go home.

In the car his nephew went on and on about his day and what sort of dirt he ate at the playground but instead of being worried about his nephew, his thoughts were still caught up with you. He was thinking about the clothes you wore and how the dress and cardigan was making your whole appearance look very soft and calm… Yes he was definitely love struck.

-> Hanse. You see each other frequently. At least once a week meeting for coffee at a local non-chain coffee shop became your tradition. It was shier luck you entered the same college and therefore never lived far apart from each other. You both equally valued and cherished the possibility to talk to and vent with someone you have known for a long time and who knows you very well. One thing you always did was venting about your job. And Hanse loved hearing about it because the way you talked about your boss or some other issue was always very direct and comically. So he enjoyed it a lot. He would listen to you all smiley and snickering. And one day he noticed how much the topic of your bickering had changed. Back in the day it would be about how unfair your shifts were and how much you had to do. Lately it was more about how your male colleagues treated you at work and how sexist it was. You tend to notice more subtle and passive aggressive behaviours of them and tell Hanse about it. Which made him notice how mature you became.

“I am telling you, and this is no joke, he came to work and walked by the window of my office. And the first thing he did was ask me how I was doing and as I said ‘fine’ he gave me this look. This Are-you-really-fine-or-are-you-becoming-an-emtional-stress-mess. I swear to god one day I will end him. Also the other day one of the guys at the ware house actually asked me if I was down spending an hour or two with him with this smug look on his face.”

Hanse raised a brow: “What did you tell him?”

You shrug and take your cup, knowing well what effect your next words will have on him: “I told him even if I was down spending the with him he wouldn’t be able to afford me.”

He just loves how sassy and mature you got and how well you handle difficult situations.

-> Subin. For Subin it would take a while to notice his feelings for you because it is very subtle and simple. Both of you didn’t enter college so long ago and even though you weren’t freshmen or sophomores anymore college still was confusing. At least for him. He likes his major and the field of study he is in but he can’t say the same about his class mates. To be quite frankly: He gets along with them well for the time being but they aren’t his friends. In fact he doesn’t have that many friends in the first place. At the end of the day he would always rely on you for sensible topics or when he needs advice. He can talk to comfortably and even after all those years you have known each other you still get him in a way no one else does. Eventually he realises how he does not have that many friends because all he needs is right here with him. It’s you. He isn’t looking for anything in other people because he already has it.

Taglist

@jeonghanmoon @soleilsuhh @kpopsnowball @purplepsycho03 @himitsu-luna

Masterlist

[tennessoui]

Does anyone else wonder what would happen if Anakin & the Clones were to 'steal' some of the Jedi's so called Reject (or ones on the way) Initiates? Obi-Wan did spend time as a Slave & he has clearly been Brainwashed by his CURRENT Masters. Anakin with the help of Aayla, Ahsoka, Vos, Obi-Wan, &Clones could raise them to be great. I never understood why they took the L.S. from the people they sent into the Corps when they say that L.S. are their lives. Basically saying that they are Dead to them.

ahh hello you sent this i think in May and i'm gonna be a bit honest i didn't like it that much because i think it's much, much too heavily jedi-critical for my tastes--obligatory pause for the I Love The Jedi Order ad run-- so i wrote this in about an hour about what i think would happen if Anakin and his men were to steal some of the Jedi Initiates, and no. No, it doesn't go well. Because the Jedi raise their kids in a community for a reason and literally Anakin could not do that alone and there is no way i can see it working on a practical level because I don't think Anakin or his men know the first thing about childcare, save for Anakin's occasional shift at the creche.

I didn't mean for this to be Anakin-critical, but someone had to be the guy getting lectured and i figured it should be the guy that kidnapped some kids. anakin needs to get lectured more sometimes imo.

(1.6k)

Three of the Initiates won’t stop crying, and a fourth has been shivering since they jumped into hyperspace, no matter how many blankets Rex has draped over their form.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Anakin doesn’t know what to do. He’d thought…well, Anakin’s sure that his former master would say that he hasn’t been thinking at all lately, and certainly not when he’d hatched this harebrained scheme to steal away younglings from a cruiser bound for the AgriCorps.

But he’d thought, really, that all Initiates would be like Ahsoka had been when she’d come to him as his padawan. That they’d be snarky but kind, quick to adapt and ready to listen to him as the authority figure.

Apparently, every youngling isn’t the same. Who knew.

The fifth Initiate who had aged too old to be taken in by a master sits in sullen silence by the porthole, but they’re screaming in the Force.

Anakin’s head hurts. He’s being bombarded on all sides by children whose mental shields aren’t strong enough to keep their very strong emotions in. They’re terrified. They’re terrified of him.

He calls Obi-Wan. He doesn’t know what else to do, and he had never, ever wanted to hurt these children. He’d been trying to help them.

It just turns out that he doesn’t know how.

“Anakin?” Obi-Wan snaps as soon as the call connects. Anakin flinches away from that tone. It means danger. Not in a physical sense, but in a I’m Very, Very Disappointed With You sense. Which might be even worse.

“Master,” he says. One of the Initiates lets out a particularly high pitched cry.

“Are the younglings okay? What have you done, Anakin?” Obi-Wan asks him in an aghast tone.

It makes Anakin bristle, even though he’s just been thinking the same thing not a minute ago. “It’s not right that the Jedi just send some of their younglings away! They deserve better than that! They’re children! They deserve choices! The Jedi—they took them from their homes and then they’re just giving them away! It’s worse than slavery! And if you can’t see it, Master, you’re as brainwashed as the rest of the Jedi!”

The holo of Obi-Wan looks at him for so long that Anakin starts to fidget. Finally, his master shakes his head slowly. “That was a very nice speech, Anakin. Who told you that?”

“I can’t think for myself!” Anakin snaps.

Obi-Wan raises a delicate eyebrow and checks something on his datapaad. “I see you were scheduled to have tea with the Chancellor at 2000 last night. Is it safe to presume you discussed the Jedi tradition of sending Initiates to the Corps?”

Anakin blushes furiously at that. It had been the Chancellor, actually, who told him about this in the first place. He’d always known, of course, but he hadn’t known the details. “You take away their lightsabers!” He shouts. “Master, you told me that my lightsaber was my life! And then you just take them away from the Initiates? It’s like you’re killing them!”

Obi-Wan looks alarmed and even confused. “Anakin,” he says slowly. “Are you really expecting the Jedi to let barely trained thirteen year olds run amuck with dangerous weapons?”

“Barely trained? I was only six years older than that when I was Knighted!”

“An event I regret not arguing against more every day,” Obi-Wan rubs at his temple for a second before looking up at Anakin. “A lightsaber is your life if you’re out in the field, on a mission, on a dangerous planet, in a war. In what event would a youngling need one in the AgriCorps? Would you run to the Senate and demand Senator Amidala’s floating podium? I’m sure she would say it’s her life.”

Anakin splutters. It’s not the same.

“But put all of that aside for a second, alright. Yes, I too wish that younglings and initiates brought to the Temple to be trained could all be trained. But there are simply not enough Jedi. And one should never rush a padawanship in order to take on another Padawan. Do you know what happens to the Initiates sent to the Corps?”

The Chancellor had made it sound as though they were forced to do backbreaking work in the fields of the planets the Corps had bases on. Anakin gets the feeling that if he were to say that now, Obi-Wan would disconnect the comm, and as much as he doesn’t need a lecture, he does need help.

When Anakin makes no move to say anything, Obi-Wan sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. “The younglings you’ve kidnapped—they’re in pain, yes?”

Anakin crosses his arms at the phrasing, but he can’t deny that they are crying.

“Initiates sent to the AgriCorps are sent in groups of ten or more if we can help it. That’s because it helps them latch onto each other and strengthen their own shields, all with a mind healer in the cruiser with them to oversee the process. And upon arrival at the AgriCorps, they’re specially trained still until they would have been Knighted. Not in combat or diplomacy as you and I were, but in meditation and compassion, as you and I were. We don’t…the Jedi don’t just send our younglings out into space alone! We have systems in place that help with the transition. Systems you have ruined because you did not even try to understand them.”

“I wanted to help them,” Anakin protests, but it’s weak and he knows it.

“Help them? Help them?” Obi-Wan repeats. “Padawan, unless you have been spending much more time in the crèche than I have ever seen you voluntarily sign up for, you have no idea how to help them! I have no idea to how to help them! The Jedi raise our children communally for that very reason. You cannot do it alone. Neither could any of us, but together we can. What were you going to do, Anakin? Where would you take them, how would you feed them? Clothe them? Train them? Were you going to form training bonds with all of them? Because you’re powerful, you’re the Chosen One. You don’t need the Jedi Order.”

“I never said that,” Anakin mutters. “I’m not—I didn’t do this because I’m the Chosen One or—or whatever, I—“

“Was listening to the wrong source of information, I am highly aware, yes. Now. We do have your coordinates now. There will be consequences for this. There has to be. Hopefully harsh enough consequences that the next time you think you can abuse your authority over your men to unilaterally right an injustice only you can see, you think twice. You call me before you commit a felony.”

“Palpatine told me you were almost sent to the AgriCorps!” Anakin bursts out. “He said you were made a slave!”

Obi-Wan freezes and turns his face back to Anakin completely. “Ah.” He says.

“You admit it!”

“I…they were hardly related, Anakin. Bad things happen, yes. No matter how hard we try to create a perfect system. External trouble will arise. Like, say, your friend Palpatine who, indirectly through you, has managed to derail a simple AgriCorps drop-off and also ground The Hero With No Fear during a war.”

Anakin curls his lips. “This isn’t about anything but the younglings. I felt them on that cruiser. They were scared! And sad! And confused! And hurt! You can’t tell me you weren’t when you thought you had to leave!”

Obi-Wan runs a hand over his face and stays quiet for a few moments. “I was,” he finally admits. “And I’m sure they are too.” Anakin goes to say something, but Obi-Wan holds up his hand. “I’ll not mention the fact that I’m sure you’ve made it worse for them, despite what I know were only gold intentions. And I will say yes, I was scared. And sad. And hurt. And angry too. I was leaving my home. I didn’t understand why.”

Obi-Wan fixes him with a cutting stare, one that makes Anakin feel all of eleven again.

“Tell me this though, Anakin. How did you feel when you left Mos Espa with my master, Qui-Gon Jinn? Did you feel scared? Or sad? Perhaps angry? Hurt?”

Clenching his jaw around the denial that he hadn’t felt any of those things (he had), Anakin nods stiffly.

“Because you were leaving your home?” Obi-Wan presses.

“No one should be forced to leave their home. No child should feel like that!” Anakin bursts out.

“But do you still feel like that?” Obi-wan ignores his outburst. “Do you still feel angry and sad and scared and hurt all the time? Do you hate the Temple that much, Padawan? The Order? The Council? …Me?”

Anakin stares at him, and Obi-Wan shakes his head slightly and clears his throat.

“I apologize, I should not have made that so personal. My point, however, is that they are scared now and they are mad now, and they will not have the life they thought they would. But they will not be alone to work through that disappointment. How could you think you and your men are better equipped to dealing with these younglings’ needs than a community of fully trained people who have been in their position before?”

Anakin scowls, but there’s a high piercing sob from behind him that has him turning around in worry. Kix rushes over to the youngling, but he can’t help them. He’s not Force-sensitive, let alone trained in the Force. Obi-Wan’s right. Force, he hates it when that happens.

“Alright, master,” Anakin says when he looks back at Obi-Wan. “I’m sure you’re on our tail already, so we’ll turn around and meet you halfway.”

“Thank you, Anakin.” Obi-Wan tells him quietly. “And…Padawan, I know your heart was in a good place but…oh, we’ll talk much more about this later.”

“Yes, Master.”

“And Padawan? Perhaps no more tea with the Chancellor for a while.”

“…yes, Master.”

[mallowstep]

In the Misty au you mentioned that Featherpaw and Storm become warriors at 9 moons old. If Featherpaw was with Tigerclan for 3 moons that means Leopard made them Warriors with out any real apprenticeship (hunting, training, etc). Does this feed in to how Feathertail reacts to being made a warrior? And does the fast tracked warriorship have any repercussions among the clan?

oh yeah, it causes problems.

first, leopardstar's reasoning for making them warriors is that the clan needs them to become warriors, because it sort of...it basically is a symbol of being one clan again.

riverclan has lost a lot lately, and a good percentage of their cats were like. directly and painfully hurt by tigerclan. not just the four: shadepelt, mosspelt, and dawnflower were all punished by tigerstar's reign.

featherpaw knows she's being made into another prop, and she doesn't care why or for what. honestly, she's barely lucid at this point, so how well she even understands what's going on is very, very questionable.

i'll circle back to her life as a warrior in a moment, but as far as training goes, it has a far bigger impact on stormheart.

he had....probably 3 moons of training. featherpaw and stormpaw had some training pre-tigerclan, although not even a moon's worth.

and while stormheart probably isn't up to par with the average warrior, he fights in the great battle, no one can deny he's earned it. but he doesn't feel like a riverclan warrior: he has forgotten how to swim (well, he thinks he has, but a lot of it is muscle memory), he didn't learn how to dive (something riverclan warriors traditionally have to learn), and he knows all thunderclan fighting techniques.

that gives him a lot of self-doubt. he doesn't really know what to do: he's not an apprentice, his (old) mentor isn't capable of mentoring him, and his sister, well, let's talk about feathertail.

feathertail thinks that leopardstar should have used the dying apprentice ceremony on her, and leopardstar...probably should have.

feathertail is having moments of clarity, interspersed with her forgetting a lot of information and being asleep and being semi-lucid. she parts with mistyfoot for the duration of the ceremony, which means she's in full "i am about to be attacked" mode. because this is how the pattern went:

mistyfoot was taken from her (or vice versa), she was placed in the centre of camp, someone says some fake reason for why she's doing this, and then she's attacked.

so when leopardstar steps down to complete the ceremony, feathertail runs. she's not entirely aware of what she's doing, she just knows that she's not safe, and safety (mistyfoot) is right there, and she takes it.

so feathertail is...not having it.

it's not until a month later that mudfur transitions her care from "better pray that she lives, because herbs alone aren't going to do it" to "okay, we can build you a long term care plan."

(this is about when the three are born, for those following along at home.)

but feathertail is...even if she was physically capable of being a warrior (which...maybe if she didn't climb a mountain and throw herself off a cliff, she could have gotten to that point), she's not mentally capable of it.

she could do border patrols, but if they get into a border fight, she's going to let herself get attacked. and border fights are still pretty common at this point in time.

and she can't extend her claws! like she can't make herself do it. so that's hunting out.

so that's not happening. she raises the three, but that's labour intensive, and causes her so much pain, so she's not going to do that again.

so feathertail has the name of a warrior, but she's not...mistyfoot can't get her to sharpen her claws. feathertail's dew claw is growing into her paw pad, and mistyfoot can't get feathertail to do anything about it.

anyway, stormheart feels extremely isolated. he connects to shadepelt, because she was stonefur's previous apprentice, and they get along really well.

anyway, yeah, it definitely causes problems for them, but leopardstar doesn't see a better option.

she can wait for feathertail to recover, but that might not happen. and if she makes stormheart a warrior, and not feathertail, mistyfoot would be pissed, stormheart and stonefur would be pissed, and feathertail is just going to lose what's left of her self-estemm.

if she waits to make stormheart a warrior, there's a divide in the clan. she calls even more attention to stonefur (since she'd have to give him a new mentor), and she also continues to put featherpaw and stormpaw below their "peers".

what's a leader to do.

(not make featherpaw go through a public ceremony, that's what.)

anyway, i've been working on stuff From This Time, so i have like. so many excerpts. mistyfoot and feathertail arguing about her claws is one of my favourites, because it's just, like, feathertail feeling safe. which is good. but i'm actually go to go with this excerpt from when the three are apprentices, because it's about feathertail coming to terms with her life.

it's also reasonably fluffy.

Now that the kits are apprentices, she's moved back into her den.

Her life is — her life is what passes for normal. She eats prey, she swims, she sits with Mistyfoot, and she listens to her kits tell her about training.

They're apprentices, now, and she thinks that means they're responsible for her. Whether or not that's formal (Leopardstar can hold another ceremony for her when she's dead), they start bringing her prey in the evenings, and they groom her more than the other way around.

She remembers when they were newborns, before they were even named, how they squirmed when she groomed their fur flat. Now, they fight over her.

Quietly.

When they think she won't hear.

But this is — as close to normal as her life will be, she thinks.

Stormheart swims with her, but only sometimes. Sometimes he sits with Shadepelt, and Feathertail teases him. Stonefur goes on patrols sometimes, but not all the time, and when he's not on patrol, he talks to her.

Mistyfoot is the deputy, and she's stepped into her role. Feathertail is happy for her, but being deputy means going on patrol, and overseeing apprentice training, and other things Feathertail doesn't (won't? can't?) do.

When she's in camp, Feathertail still sticks to her side. She doesn't mind when they tease her about it, now, but she still stays there.

"Feathertail, do you want to go for a walk?" Dawnflower is looking at her pleadingly. She's been trying to get Feathertail to go on a walk, or at least to swim somewhere that's not around camp.

"Sure," Feathertail says.

Dawnflower purrs, walking on Feathertail's good side. She doesn't know if it's intentional, but she appreciates it.

This is normal, Feathertail decides. This is — good, maybe.

[shesawriter39049]

|7 DEEP| M| MASTERLIST|

SMUT/ANGST/FLUFF/POLY AU 

AU SUMMARY- Your husband Namjoon and yourself run a successful Adult Film Entertainment Company called “Onyx” with your 5 best friends from college who you also happen to be in an open relationship with! This is a candid in-depth look at the rollercoaster ride that is your life!

ALSO LOWKEY A RAGS TO RICHES STORY.....

Namjoon, Yoongi, Jin, Tae, Hoseok, and Jimin, all already work with the OC and Joon, Kookie comes in later one as a new hire...and the possible final piece…

DISCLAIMER: Obv this is a poly so the boys are Bi..but outside of kissing and dirty talk I have not YET ventured into physical MXM….

NOTE- As long as this keeps getting support the initial plan is 7 one-shots, one for each boys. Everyone installment will have smut as well as a overall storyline, one that not only ties into your job, but also the OC’s (AKA YOU) special dynamic with each individual member. The last one-shot (7th) will be the first and maybe only one where smut wise it’s all 7 of them, it will finally address how they all came together, and will be partially a flashback sequence. HOWEVER, there will be bits and pieces of the “Characters” lives and what not sprinkled within the “drabbles” too...so those will also be worth reading especially, as the story developes....or at least reading the summaries! 

Kookie will make appearances throughout, however, he is NOT as involved off rip as the other boys…

ONE-SHOTS SO FAR :

AFTER-HOURS- NAMJOON X OC (Tae comes in at the end) - 

ABOUT- Your husband and business partner find you up way past acceptable work hours for the 3rd night in a row! So, daddy has to step in and remind you that’s not something we do in this household. You come before work, in every sense of the phrase!

OR-You're in desperate need of a 2nd videographer/editor, because Yoongi’s in over his fucking head! So here you are, up at 1 AM scrolling through resumes because your that boss that hates to overwork her employees so she overworks herself!

AKA- “MEET THE KIMS” 

PRETTY PLEASE- TAEHYUNG X OC - ( Joon comes in at the end)

About- Tae fucks you on top of your receptionist's desk before you fire her…

Or- Tae’s feeling a little needy...and somewhat high-key self continuous about you possibly hiring a new production assistant...AKA...Jungkook. It seems as though Mr. Kim takes pride in being the youngest within the office! It seems as though your baby boy just needs a little..reassurance…

JIN & CHOCOLATE- JIN X OC (FT A lil Seok at the end ) - 

(5K SMUT WITH A SIDE OF PLOT! NOT JIN’S INTRO CHAPTER) 

About-You suck Jin off…and brownie batter may or may not be somewhat involved because why the fuck not. Oh, Hoseok comes over to drop off weed…and welll….doesn't exactly leave

Or- His assistants birthday is tomorrow and she’s insisted on him making his infamous “Dizzy Brownies” AKA…pot brownies and Jin being the perfectionist he is, scrapes the first batch. You however, think they’re fine and if he’s not gonna bake with said  batter you’ll find use for some of it…..Then Hosoek stops by to bring the missing ingredient…weed and his dick…

TOUCH ME , TEASE ME- NAMJOON X OC 

(5K, IN COLORATION TO THE EVENTS THAT WILL TAKE PLACE IN “GOT ME LOOSIN’ ALL MY COOL)

About- Namjoon eats you out the minute you walk in the door because well…that’s the kinda husband he is!

Or- Jimin text’s Namjoon to brace him for the mood you’ll more than likely be in after a day full of drama and finally firing the front desk receptionist! Which essentially red for him to make you come hard AF and then feed you….OH, and You guys invite Yoongi over to talk about the Tae and Kookie “Thing”

PRIVATE SHOW- TAE X OC (NEW) 

(5k, Holiday esque one-shot however for the 1st time it does dive into the downside of being in a poly relationship that’s essentially a secret in the publics eye) 

About-Just a casual lunch outing where Tae’s trying to do his job and your trying to get him off under the table with your shoe...nothing new!

OR- Tae and yourself are grabbing lunch at 71 Above, after checking out the last couple of venues for the company's end of the year Holiday party. While at said restaurant, it becomes a humbling reminder that the most important people in your life are essentially a secret...cute!

 UP AND COMING: In no particular order! 

MUTED- YOONGI X OC (SIDE JIN)- HIATUS

Note, this is more of a smut drabble though it will be around 3k...this is NOT Yoongi/Jin’s official “Introduction” if that makes sense….(SNEAK PEEK IS LINKED) 

About-Yoongi goes down on you in the back seat while you’re on a business call….Jin’s driving, lowkey watching..and being a little shit the entire time…

Or- You’re on the phone with a dick of an investor and a second away from losing your shit and calling off the entire deal…however…your boys decide to “distract” you. Give you a little something to keep you at ease so you don’t blow this 6 figure account…

MAKE ME PROUD- JIMIN X OC (ALL THE MEMBERS ARE IN THIS BRIEFLY)

About-  Jimin and yourself take a trip to get a sneak peek at “Filter” before it opens… and Jimin fucks you on top of the bartop…

Or- Jimin’s ready to make his first solo big boy investment….AKA...opening up his own Gay club in WeHo...and the new business venture also reopen’s old wounds about his past. Both good and bad..but at the end of the day he remembers he wouldn’t the version of himself that he’s oh so proud of...without a little someone named “Y/N” 

 “PARTY FAVORS”- YOONGI X OC- 

About- You and Yoongi get a little one on one time while in Amsterdam, IE getting completely stoned, and attending a sex show..hell maybe even joining in on a sex show...shit just get’s wild in the Dam!

OR- You and your boys jet out to Amsterdam for the weekend to celebrate 16 AVN award nominations (AKA THE TONY’S/GRAMMY’S OF PORN) and while high and in a country where nobody knows who you are...(which means Yoongi and yourself are free to do as you please even in public)....Yoongi admits for the first time that sometimes he feels a type of way that HE wasn’t the one that married you considering the two of you were a thing FIRST....

“CHAMPAGNE SHOWERS” - JIN X OC (Side Namjoon)- NEW 

About- Jin says he's coming over to discuss business over brunch, champagne, and a nice Jacuzzi bath…which, of course, leads to more than just talk about “Finances and portfolio expansions” 

OR: Jin’s the eldest, he loves control, he needs control, hints why he’s the finical controller..always has been...even in the domestic sense. Jin’s also shit at feelings he’s used to being the shoulder to cry on not needing the shoulder..he’s not used to feeling vulnerable...so it’s not to easiest for him to admit that he misses being the one you all come home too...misses being “needed”! He’s used to being the one that has his shit together, being the glue that’s held you lot together during your worst times..so this...is completely out of his comfort zone!

“ALL EYES ON ME”  - HOSEOK X OC (FT OT7)-  NEW 

About- Hoseok and yourself have sex in a very questionable place while at the launch party for ‘Spectrum” I.E. your newest business venture...sex toys…your man deserves a little…”Thank you” for all the work he’s put in...including planning this party!

OR- Hoseok’s in over his fuckin head, he’s the one essentially spearheading the launch of “Spectrum” which is obviously his job as the head of Marketing, tactical ETC, however, this is just..different...he’s literally the one steering the boat. He’s good at what he does he knows this, he’s fucking made for it...but...it;s still’ bringing out some old, nasty insecurities...reminding him how he's his own worst critic...a perfectionist to the fault. Reminding them of those days where he never thought he was good enough...and it would absolutely break him if he lets you lot down! 

“GOT ME LOOSIN’ ALL MY COOL) -KOOK X READER | JIMIN X READER (SMUT) FT- YOONGI & TAE

About- Jimin and yourself take Jungkook shopping for a new suit to wear to the “Spectrum” launch party! OH, and Jimin fucks you in the backseat of your truck in the parking garage of the mall…..

OR: You know Kookie still in that “Broke college grad” phase only being with the company barley a month, and you don’t want him to feel self-conscious at the event! You’ve also been too busy to really check in with him to see how he’s adjusting! So, you thought something like this, in a more laxed atmosphere, would be a good solution! Oh and Jimin, honestly he’s just nosey as fuck and inched himself along, like nobody really invited him he invited his damn self! Also Jungook can’t underatand why the fuck your all so damn attractive...like...why!?

AKA-MEET JUNGKOOK JEON

SNEAK PEEK 

***

THE “FINAL” ONE-SHOT,  IS NOT FULLY OUTLINED YET

******

FINAL NOTE-

This series is open to request...for one-shot/ member scenarios/drabbles.

The initial 7 one-shots are done to get the dynamic and I guess you could say “Plot” set in stone...however, once that’s done and in-between I’m open to random scenarios as long as it somewhat coincides with the “Universe”

This is a story that follows normal day to day life in a sense....they just happen to live a very exciting one!

Anything from them going grocery shopping and making dinner...all the way to the OC and one of the boys fooling around on set...as long as it fits the vibe. I’m down!

   *** To clarify as well...publicly ( And in the workplace) the world just knows your married to Namjoon....the whole poly situation is not something blasted on your Wiki...at least not yet....***

(Optional)

***POSTIONS’S WITHIN THE COMPANY*** 

(Obv things are spread out now and they have other employees but they all STILL oversee multiple jobs...It’s a habit now. For so many years they couldn’t afford the help! So, now that they can they’ve just become a little...protective of said job duties..) 

Y/n Kim(26)- CEO/Founder/HR/Storyboard/Content  creator/Directory/Scriptwriter/Talent scout/ALL OF THE ABOVE (Set design, DVD author, 2nd Location manager, etc)   

Namjoon Kim (26)- CEO/ Founder/ Director/ Content analyst/ Lead scriptwriter/ Sr Production manger/ ALL OF THE ABOVE (IT, web design, outreach, etc)

Yoongi Min (27)- Head digital producer/ Program/site Planner/Production manager/Sound engineer/Production scheduler

Taehyung Kim (24)-Executive Assistant/ Content admin/ location manager/Wardrobe assistant/backup talent scout & health liaison

Seokjin Kim (28)- Senior Accountant/ Sales manager/ Financial controller/Logistics/Operations

Jimin Park (25)- Head talent scout/ Model Liaison/ Wardrobe/ Hair & Makeup coordinator/ Onset assistant/Health Liaison

Hoseok Jung (26)- Social media/ Streaming manager/Tactical marketer/ Advertising/event manager/PR

NOW HIRING: FOR A VIDEO EDITOR/IMAGE PROCESSOR/SOUND EDITOR/SECONDARY PHOTOGRAPHER AKA-

 “PRODUCTION COORDINATOR“

....WELCOME TO ONYX!

[peekbackstage]

Hi, are you not answering/elaborating on bjyx anymore? I'm not trying to sound rude, and if you decided to do that for whatever reason then it's all cool! But I wanted to know if something happened/if you still ship it/if it's ok to send u asks abt it or if you just rather not from now on. Either way I still think your blog is amazing!

Also a sidenote: BRO, working backstage in the very midst of the idol scene must be sooo very stressing but also *so cool* like? You're in the middle of the action! You possibly go on tours and plan big events and have all the contacts and get to know so many details and must get so many vip passes! All that without the strain of actually *being* the idol who has insane pr monitoring 24/7 and worries abt their public image at every corner. I mean of course i know it isn't all that great all the time, but I bet the job does have it's perks, right?

(this accidentally turned into a 2-in-1 ask on completely unrelated topics, sorry!)

Hi there, 

I no longer will be answering or talking about BJYX on this blog, unfortunately. This is why.  (TLDR: I thought I would be safe to speculate, but the music industry is actually shockingly small, sometimes.) I do support them both completely - I just am no longer in a position where I feel comfortable speculating on their relationship given the circumstances. 

You can still send asks if you want to, but any of my responses will be more general and will not be specific to any kind of relationship.

Regarding your side note: 

Yeah, I get that a lot, actually. But the reality is, when you are the one working behind the scenes, you work insane hours. Imagine being someone in the live industry and going on tour and getting to one city, loading into the venue at 9am, having a concert from 9pm to 11pm, then loading out by 1am. You get to the hotel by 1:30am, sleep until 5am, and then leave for the airport by 6am only to do it all over again the very next day, if you are unlucky. 

When you aren’t on tour, you are still working insane hours, roughly 14-17 hours a day, 7 days a week. From the moment you open your eyes in the morning until the moment you pass out, exhausted, your life is consumed with work. If you aren’t on a conference call, then you’re writing an email. If you’re not writing an email, then you’re having a meeting with your team. If you aren’t doing that, then you’re doing something else. 

It’s an endless cycle of work, with very little in between, especially if you are the one responsible for not only hiring every member of the tour team, but also the 200+ additional local staff you need nationwide.  

Don’t think about having a life, seeing friends, or dating. You might see your family maybe three or four times a year, if you’re lucky. 

In between all of that you are flying out to major music conferences to network and shmooze with other industry and make deals and take meetings. 

If you are in charge of managing an artist, then you literally have to do all of the above but WAIT, you also have to actually manage your artist’s day to day schedule. You have to make sure the artist gets from point A to point B, gets to all their scheduled PR gigs, records whatever it is they need to record, rehearse whatever it is they have to rehearse, etc. You also have to do this while working with an artist’s agent to get your artist more appearances, while overseeing a sponsorship team that is pitching brands to get your artist brand deals.  

You are also doing all of this and hoping your artist doesn’t do something dumb, like post something on social media they aren’t supposed to post. And you also are managing a social media team to post constant content to your artist’s social media feeds, which is often scheduled up to a month in advance You are doing all of this while also coordinating with the artist’s label to make sure that their social media strategy is in line with your own. 

If you are working at the talent agency that represents the artist, then your job consists of getting your artist the best appearances, negotiating with talent buyers, and constantly trying to get the artist opportunities.  Your days are spent on the phone arguing with talent buyers, hand-holding various artist managers, and emailing back and forth with your team pretty much the entire damn day. You don’t really get to rest because managers are calling you all the time, or you are calling them to try and work out the details of each deal or tour or whatever it is that you’re working on for not just that one artist, but also your other twenty clients. 

If you are working at the label-- Okay, I think you get the point now. 

You now have a tiny taste of what it is like to operate at an executive level. 

Welcome to the music industry.

P.S. Yes, you do get to go to all the parties and get all of the VIP passes to all of the shows, and get to go backstage, and do all the cool things, but then you realize you’re actually working so you can’t actually have a good time at any of those events. 

[leafs-lover]

Because Two People Got Drunk: 10

Series Masterlist 

A/N:  Italics are your thoughts. I linked some of the outfits, and gifts so you have an idea of what I was thinking in case you’re interested. I don’t

Summary: You give birth to your son and move down to Pittsburgh. You have your first Christmas as a family.

Warnings: Swearing, child birth, fluff, masturbation, Freddie as a dad – not really warning worthy but its super cute J

Word Count: 4035

Chapter 10

November 8, 2021

 A few days later movers came and took everything to Fred’s old place in Toronto. Your lease is up and you planned on staying at his condo, but since you decided to go to Pittsburgh you have to go through your boxes and determine what to bring with you and what to put in storage. Mostly you are sending your clothes and a few boxes of pictures.

He has you look online though for a few items for your son. Just some basic items, change table, bassinet. Fred already has diapers, bottles and a car seat and he says once you are settled you both can go and get whatever else he needs but he just needs some stuff to make do for a few weeks. With you breast feeding he will be starting off in a bassinet in your room, before being moved to his crib when he gets older. You label the boxes with storage and ship labels for the movers.

You have a doctor’s appointment so Fred asked Auston to oversee the movers. You could have gotten one of your friends to come over but Fred insisted on Auston saying he only lived a few floors away so it was easier then someone driving across town through Toronto traffic.

“You sure you’re okay to drive?” you lift an eyebrow at him. “Like how do you fit behind the wheel, you’re already so short so you can’t slide the seat back too far." 

You laugh “yeah it’s a little tight now and uncomfortable. I only drive if I have to.”

“I can drop you off and pick you up. We have time before the movers come.” You think about it for a second before agreeing. “Not having a steering wheel rammed into my stomach sounds nice.”

“So you excited to not be pregnant?” He asks pulling out of the parking garage.

“You have no idea. I’m over it. I’ve loved being pregnant for the most part but now I just want him out. I want to meet him and see if he took Fred’s hair" 

Auston laughs “little red" 

“What?”

“Oh we call Fred big red, so when I found out it was a boy I started calling him little red. I’m really hoping he has red hair.”

You laugh “yeah I hope so too.”

“So when are you going to Pittsburgh?”

“Well I’m hoping this little guy comes soon and then I can fly down with him during the couple days he has off for American Thanksgiving. My due date is the 18th, so I’m just hoping he doesn’t come late. It will be nice to have a couple days to get settled with Fred before hockey starts up again” 

“Yeah, for sure. Fred is really happy you are going to Pittsburgh. I mean he had a 42 shot shutout against us. I would have preferred you tell him after the game so we might have been able to get one or 2 by him, but when he told me after the game he couldn’t stop smiling.” 

“Yeah, part of being a parent is always putting them first and doing what’s best for them. Being around his dad all the time is best. They both need it, and I can take 18 months off so it gives them a lot of time together.”

“Right” he gives you a sideways glance as he pulls up to the clinic “call when you’re done.” 

 Nov 11, 2021 6:00 P.M

You sit on the couch Facetiming with Fred.  

“So I got this bottle warming thing a mom on the team told me about, and a diaper genie. I didn’t know what pump you wanted though, there wasn’t one on the list and I had no idea what to look for. So many brands and features, I felt really out of place at the store.”

“Yeah my friends bought me one and some outfits. Instead of a baby shower we had brunch a few weekends ago.” 

“Okay, do you think we will need anything else right now?” 

“I don’t think so, we have all the” you stop mid-sentence as pain radiates your stomach “aaaah" you take some deep breaths. “(Y/N) you okay?”  

A few seconds later the pain leaves “That was weird. Anyways I was saying that we can get anything else lat -" 

“You just going to pretend that didn’t happen? That might have been a contraction.” 

“Well if it was I need more than one to go to the hospital. Have to time them and if they are around 8 minutes apart I think that’s when I go. He stays on the phone and 16 minutes later you have another one. He keeps timing them and you hear him typing something on his laptop when there is a knock. 

You waddle to the door and see Auston “Fred text said to come and you’d need a ride to the hospital soon.”

“I’m at 14 minutes. I need to be at 8 so still lots of time.” You respond before Fred chimes in “I got to go I’ll talk to you later. But Auston don’t listen to her. She has a bag packed by the door take her to the hospital now.”  

“Fred I’m –“  

“No, go to the hospital. These things can take hours but they can also speed up quickly. I’d rather Auston not deliver my baby in my living room because this sped up and you ran out of time to get to the hospital.”

“Yeah I also am in favour of that not happening.” He grabs your phone hanging up from Fred. He helps you put your coat and boots on, grabbing your hospital bag. “Let’s get that baby out of you" 

He drives you, and comes in with you.  As you get admitted he briefly wanders away to take a phone call before joining you to the room. He sits on the chair beside you and pulls his phone out.

“You don’t have to stay; it’s not your baby" 

“I’m not leaving you alone, besides I promised Fred." 

Is he going to stay during the delivery? Like he has to leave sometime soon right?

 November 12, 2021 - 12:30 am

The anesthesiologist enters the room. “So you are about 8 min apart, how are you feeling?”

“Sore everything is sore. My uterus feels like there is bowling balls being thrown against it all the time. I’m hungry but am only allowed to eat ice chips, which if were being honest isn’t food. So I’m doing great.”

“Well I can’t help with the hunger but I can the pain. Sorry it took so long to get here, but would you like an epidural?”

After you agree Auston steps out of the room briefly. He returns when the doctor leaves.

“Didn’t want to give all natural a shot, I’ve heard it’s not that bad” he states almost laughing. You know he is joking, but you’re not really in the mood. You’re honestly slightly agitated he is still there, would rather be alone then with someone you barely know. “I’m sorry do you have a uterus?”

“No”

“Then maybe keep your opinion on my birth plan to yourself.” You hear a familiar laugh on the other side of the room.

“It’s a good thing I asked you to come, get all the stupid comments out of the way now. So when you have kids one day you won’t piss of your wife” Fred laughs walking into the room.

“What are you -?”

“You honestly didn’t think I would miss this did you? Would have been here sooner but flight was delayed” he interjects kissing your forehead. “Be right back” him and Auston head into the hallway. He returns a few minutes later alone. “How are you doing?” he asks sitting in the seat Auston had been using.

“I’m alright, it’s been like 6 hours and I’m sore, hungry and tired. I’m not allowed to eat so I have to stay hungry, but I could really use a nap but I just can’t get comfortable enough to sleep.” Fred gets up and slides in behind you gently and puts his hand on your leg as you lean back “this might help” you mumble. His hand leaves your leg and starts stroking your hair from your face. “You sure, if I’m in your way or if you get uncomfortable I can move.” As he finishes you nod off.

2:30 A.M.

You are woken by Fred gently shaking you, as he whispers your name. “(Y/N) they are here to do an exam, see how you are doing.” He eases back into the chair as you shift.

“Well you are about 6cm” the nurse says as she leaves the room.

“6, how am I only six centimetres? I need this baby outtt!” you scream.

Fred laughs grabbing your hand. He brings it to his lips giving it a light kiss. “I know, I’m sorry.”

“Yeah you should be, you did this to me with your sperm. I’m here in this pain because you got me pregnant.” Another contraction courses through you. He snickers again “If I could take this pain away for you I would in a heartbeat.”

“You couldn’t handle this.”

This causes him to burst out laughing “probably right, want some ice chips?” You nod and he leaves the room.

1:00 P.M.

“Well it looks like it’s just about time to start pushing” the doctor says after completing the exam. “Ready to become parents?” he leaves the room for a few minutes. Fred looks over to you “this is it (Y/N/N).”

“Nope! This isn’t it.” He gives you a confused look “I’m not ready. He is just going to have to stay put a little bit longer. I don’t’ think I can do this, push a human out of me, and become a mom -“

The doctor and birthing crew have returned and wait by the door. “(Y/N/N) come on, you can do this I have no doubt. You have grown this human inside you for 9 months. You have been incredible during all this and have gone through so much and there is just a little bit more and you are a mom. And you’ll be a damn good one too. I have no doubt that you can do this” You just stare at him “okay, let’s do this.”

4:00 PM

You are lying in the bed, eyes fixed on the beautiful baby boy in your arms. Fred is sitting on the bed beside you his arm around you. “He’s perfect” Fred whispers touching his tiny hand. “Yeah he is” you reply rocking the baby.

A nurse comes over to you “do we have a name for Mr. handsome?”

“Uh no” Fred replies “We never found one we liked, thought once he was born something would stick” “That’s okay we’ll just write baby (Y/L/N) for now” the nurse replies as she turns to leave.

“No,” you say “baby Andersen.” Fred’s arm around you tightens as the nurse leaves. He looks into your eyes with tears forming in his.

“You don’t have to do that (Y/N)”

“Is this baby an Andersen?” You question and Fred nods “then his last name will be Andersen.”

Fred kisses your head “now we just need a first name, although I did like Mr. Handsome.”

This causes you to laugh slightly “I need a nap, than we can pick a name.”

Nov 13, 2021

You got back from the hospital not too long ago, Fred has to leave the following morning, it’s been a whirlwind, but you are happy to be home. Fred has Mitch, Steph and Auston stopping by briefly to meet the baby. He tried to cancel to allow you time to rest but you wouldn’t have it, saying this is likely the only time they could see him until Toronto plays in Pittsburgh.

“Oh my goodness he is just perfect” Steph exclaims as she holds him. Mitch leans over and grabs his baby finger and smiles before looking up at you “crazy how this happened because you two got drunk.” Everyone laughs as Steph elbows him in the rib.

“Mitchell!” She yells “what’s his name?”

“Oliver Charles Andersen” Fred says.

December 10, 2021

You have been living at Fred’s for about 2 weeks, the move to Pittsburgh went smoothly. He chartered a small plane for the two of you. After the thanksgiving break Fred had mostly home games, which made the transition pretty smooth.

Oliver has been waking up a couple times in the night, and around 6am in the mornings with you. You have been trying to pump so Freddie can help with the feedings when available but your body is taking longer to produce enough milk, so most feedings have been you. He still wakes up throughout the night and sits with you when he hears Oliver, even on game nights. Oliver has been sleeping in his bassinet beside your bed to make things easier, you try to keep him quiet when he cries during the night but Freddie always hears him and sits with you.

This morning you wake at 9:30, very alarming. You look into the bassinet and it’s empty. You jump up and head to the living room and see a shirtless Fred sitting on the couch with baby Oliver sleeping on his chiseled chest. Fred smiles as you walk in “there is coffee if you want some.”

“Thanks. When did you get him?”

“Around 7 he started fussing, so I went in and got him. You had a little bit of milk in the fridge I gave him.”

“Thanks, I needed those couple hours. When do you have to leave for practice?”

“You don’t have to thank me for doing what any dad should do. And I have the day off.” He pauses for a minute “so it’s getting close to Christmas, I was wondering if you were planning on going back to Toronto for the break?”

“No I don’t think so. I don’t have any siblings and my parents aren’t around. My grandparents are in Europe but have a cruise leaving the 28th so it’s not worth visiting now.” You also didn’t want Ollie to not have both his parents around, not that he would remember but it was his first Christmas. “You have any plans? Family coming down?”

“Nope, I haven’t talked to them much since the summer.”

“Fred I know it’s not my place, but you should talk to them. It’s not a big deal what your dad said to me, honestly I wasn’t that upset about it. But you should think about talking to them, you never know what will happen.

“This isn’t really over what he said to you, some stuff happened after you left Denmark.” He quickly changes the subject “so it looks like it will be just the 3 of us.” You nod staring at his bare chest, your mouth watering “Want to do anything special for his first Christmas?”

“We need a Christmas tree” you exclaim “Like a really big one, 9 feet or something!”

“I have a fake one I normally put up” he says looking at your face as you scrunch your nose “but that clearly won’t do.”

“My parents and I used to go out every year and cut down a tree and then spend the afternoon decorating it and the rest of the house. It was like Santa’s village. Then my parents died and I went to live with my dad’s parents, since my mom’s died a few years before that. My dad was Jewish, and his parents hated that we celebrated Christmas even though my mom was Christian. So I haven’t celebrated Christmas in a while but I always thought when I had a family I’d resume…” you trail off starting to realize this isn’t a family, and that you shouldn’t really create these traditions since some years you may not see your son on Christmas.

Fred stands up, grabbing your hand “Go get ready and we’ll go get a tree.”

It took a bit too get to get everything ready and packed, underestimated packing up a new baby. You wear a pair of knee high black boots with your jeans tucked in “surprised these fit” you whisper as you head to your closet and pull out a white cashmere sweater and tuck the front into your pants before pairing it with a long beige coat and a white toque. You finally head out to the farm, Oliver sleeping in the car seat.

When you arrive at the farm Fred removes Oliver’s car seat and attaches it to a sled before covering him in a couple blankets. You begin walking around the farm looking for the perfect tree. When you finally find it, Fred just stops walking and stares at you. “This is it” you whisper.

“You know” Fred starts “this is Ollie’s first time out” looking down at you. He pulls his phone out and you all take a selfie in front of the tree you picked, big smiles on your faces as Oliver is fast asleep.

You later arrive back home, exhausted. “I didn’t realize taking a baby out was so tiring.” You yawn as Oliver begins to fuss, as you groan reaching into the car seat to unbuckle him. “I can get him” Fred offers, “you don’t have boobs” you respond causing him to laugh.

He follows you to your bed getting you a nursing blanket and your nursing pillow. You sit resting against the head board as Fred sits beside you, you begin feeding Oliver as you doze off. You wake up a little bit later with Oliver in his bassinet and you lying with your head on Fred’s chest, his arm around you resting on your waist. You feel Freddie begin to stir as you look up to his eyes “hey” you whisper. His arm tightens around your waist “hey” he says pulling you closer he kisses your head.

December 25, 2021

It’s Christmas morning, you wake up at 6:00 with Oliver, Fred is still asleep as you make some coffee. You feed Oliver, and change him into his Christmas outfit, a white onesie that says “my first Christmas” with a matching plaid set of pants and hat that have little Christmas trees and reindeers on them. You look to the clock, as your sons big brown eyes look up at you, Fred’s brown eyes “want to go see daddy?” you ask him he smiles. You head to the kitchen making two coffees before you head to Fred’s room.

You slowly open the door and see Fred lying on his back with no shirt, his duvet resting near his waist. His shirt has risen up slightly and you can see a small part of his abs. You set the coffees on his side table as Fred’s eyes flutter open “Merry Christmas” you say, as he shifts to sit up in bed. His eyes are still somewhat heavy, his red hair is a mess from sleeping. You pass Oliver to him as Fred leans down to kiss his sons head “Merry Christmas big buy” he says giving him an Eskimo kiss. The cute exchange practically makes your ovaries explode.

Fred shifts to look at you “Merry Christmas (Y/N)” as he reaches for his coffee. “Merry Christmas Fred” you respond sitting down on the bed beside him sipping your coffee.

Oliver reaches and grabs his toes bringing them to his mouth. Fred chuckles “you got your toes?”

“Flexible like your dad” you quip.

He giggles “I’m not that flexible (Y/N/N)” he responds tickling his sons toes.

You’ve seen Fred be a dad the past 6 weeks. He is a great dad, but for some reason seeing him today interacting with your son has you feeling something different. You have this feeling to put your head on his shoulder and snuggle into him and sit as a family as you both coo over your son. Seeing him in these interactions with Oliver make you weak in the knees.

“I’m going to shower” you say with a smile on your face. You have a long cold shower trying to cool yourself off which didn’t help so you wander to your night stand and grab your familiar toy. You haven’t used it in a while, not since before you were 20 months along, after that Fred took over and helped you during the pregnancy. You were cleared for sexual interaction by your doctor a few days prior.

You lie down on your bed in your robe as you spread your legs and turn your toy on low. You graze it around lightly stroking your clit as you moan softly. You gently push it in, throwing your head back. You begin slowly moving it in and out, not wanting to try too much too soon. Not knowing how your body would respond.

You continue to gently pull it out and push it back in a moan escapes your lips. You bite down on your bottom lip trying to be quiet as you don’t want Fred to hear you. You continue the pace, gradually increasing the speed  of the vibrator as your body allows it. Whimpers continue to leave your lips as you bring your left hand up biting on your forearm as you feel your orgasm approaching. You increase the speed as your legs tighten around you and you spasm coming undone, a moan leaves your lips.

A few seconds later you hear the sound of your son outside your door followed by a “shhh” and then footprints head down the hall. Fuck I think he heard you think to yourself.

You quickly throw on some leggings and an oversized sweater and your Christmas hat. You find Fred in the kitchen holding Oliver as he feeds him a bottle. You walk by Fred kissing Oliver’s head on your way to get another coffee.

“I uh didn’t know when you’d be out of the shower” he pauses “I made breakfast. I didn’t want it to get cold so I put the lid on the pans.”

“Great” you say grabbing two plates and dishing out food as you eat in silence.

You expect the day to be slightly awkward but Fred manages to make it easy so you start thinking maybe he didn’t hear. You agreed to keep it simple for Christmas. Oliver is 6 weeks old and doesn’t know much about what is going on around him. Fred hands you a thin rectangular box wrapped with a little bow, the tag reads love Oliver. “Fred you weren’t supposed to” you say softly.

“I didn’t, Oliver did.” You chuckle lightly removing the paper. You open the box to find a beautiful necklace with a sapphire stone, set inside tiny diamonds with Oliver’s birth date engraved on the back “It’s beautiful, thank you” you say as Fred removes it from the box and places it around your neck doing the clasp.

You hand Fred a small box and he smirks at you “It’s from Oliver” you respond. He chuckles before removing the paper. He opens the box to reveal a leather woven bracelet. It has two charms woven into it, one with a footprint and the other has his birth date. A smile crosses his face “thanks Oliver its perfect” he says tickling your son’s foot before he puts it on his wrist.

During the afternoon you and Fred make Christmas ornaments with Oliver’s hand and footprints and make dinner. Since it was only the two of you opted to make a chicken instead of a turkey as they are smaller, but still was a nice family dinner with some wine Fred picked out.

You’re Outfit for the Tree Farm:

Fred’s Gift to You:

Your gift to Fred:

Oliver’s Christmas Outfit:

Next Chapter

[regardingseas]

Ttile: Echoed Vexations (Part One, part two linked)

Fandom: Hermitcraft

Rating: Teen and up audiences (violence warning)

AO3: here! (Full story at once)

•••

Plot Summary:

It's all too easy to turn a blind eye to the past-- to believe that because someone has been shielded from harm's way, they should no longer fear the wrath of their opponent's creed. They're safe now, after all, so why would they..?

Yes, Scar and Cub are certainly "safe", but they're still haunted by memories of the Vex and their deals all the same.

OR

An average afternoon during the HCB Base Swap is cut short when Mumbo accidentally digs up a remnant from Scar's Vex partnership days, and unfortunately for the town's mayor, the other Hermit is far from aware just how triggering the topic can truly be. Things only dissolve from there, and in the end, Grian lends a helping hand to console a friend.

•••

Additional Content Warnings:

Depictions of trauma disorders, panic attacks, flashbacks, paranoid thoughts/delusions, manipulation, gaslighting, threats, injury, and violence. Mentions of religious themes, unintentional self-harm, and non-permanent character death.

Do be careful, but otherwise, enjoy!

•••

The sun was still high in the sky even as Scar finished decorating the monument's support chains, sweltering rays beaming down and adding to the oppressive humidity of the jungle around him. With his usual jacket set aside to fight the heat, he wiped away the beads of sweat that had gathered on his forehead and grabbed a stray bucket from the sidelines. He'd nearly finished the waterfall aspect of the design-- crystal blue streams cascading over the edges of four white spanners, all joining together in the octagonal pool at the base's foundation. It was looking quite spectacular, if he were to say so himself, with the vine-coiled braces and additional water currents tying the otherwise juxtaposing themes together nicely.

Scar scooped up a fresh pail of water, filling it to the brim and hauling it towards the last pillar. He glanced down at the container as he carried it, catching a glimpse of his reflection from the liquid inside. His face shone red with effort, misplaced strands of hair having clung themselves to his tan skin.

Though unsurprised, he still couldn't help but laugh at the rippling image. "It's just my luck I'd swap with another jungle dwelling Hermit. I swear, I can never escape this climate for long. First the island last year, then all this."

With a shake of his head he returned his gaze upwards, continuing to muse aloud to the landscape before him, "You tropics are wonderful and all, but it sure would've been a nice change of pace to set up camp in somewhere like the mountains. Or pull total 180 and have landed in the tundras!"

Concepts for each design raced through his head, each idea fighting the others for dominance and tacking details onto itself, trying to land its place on the metaphorical pedestal of his imagination. A cottage with medieval influences? No, that would be far too typical, amp both of those components up. An entire village with a steampunk driven aesthetic, built into the mountainscape itself; no doubt with custom terraforming to integrate the buildings into the natural environment. That was more like it.

Scar could envision working windmills and waterwheels accompanying purposefully makeshift farmlands, historic blimps having reclaimed skies where they'd soar high overhead. Below them, eye-catching pops of colour, shining through as floating lanterns that hover above connective rope bridges.

As for the arctic concept? Something more grand would be ideal. In his fantasy, he'd created an absolute oxymoron of the words cabin and mansion jumbled together, and he adored it that way. A bottom floor made of bricked stone, the top made of logs and large windows to oversee the view. Accompanying them in the same manner would be a balcony, propped on columns that hugged the building and curved around its corners. The top deck would be open for clear days, and the space below it safe on harsher ones. Sloped roofs would be adorned with chimneys, and the interior warmed by cozy flames that were kept organized with inviting lofts. The living area could be split leveled, sinking down to create its own margin where guests could comfortably gather by the fireplace and--

There was a tug at his ankle, and next thing he knew, a bemused Scar went crashing to the ground, having been too caught up to notice the trailing plants blocking his footway. His hands shot out to catch himself, palms scraping against the concrete floor in a way similar to the childhood stunt of crashing and burning on the pavement. A stinging snapped up his arms, and the water bucket dropped from his grasp, clattering down with a metallic rumble before spilling its contents across the floor.

Scar pushed himself upright with a hiss of air through his teeth, shaking off his grazed palms and wiping them on his jeans. Pulling his foot free from the greenery and gathering himself up was no problem, what was a problem, however, was the troubling sight now before him.

The water had spilled all over one of Mumbo's redstone contraptions, causing the device to short circuit and emit a sort of maroon-grey smoke. The wires fashioned from the compacted dust had been all but washed away, any remaining pieces hanging on by threads and failing miserably whenever a signal attempted to fire; more so sizzling rather than surging alight with energy.

"Oh, crud!" he shouted, racing towards the machine and yanking on the shut-off switch to divert any further input from the broken setup.

It powered down, but Scar was still left swatting the coloured smoke from his face, coughing as the scent of burnt metallics filled his nostrils. When had he gotten so absorbed in possible building opportunities that he'd managed to miss the foliage in front of him? Why had he even been wondering so deeply about it, anyway? This event was about improving one another's bases by adding their own personal touches, not starting a new project entirely.

Scar sighed, he wasn't sure why his mind had begun drifting so far. He'd like to blame it on the wild imagination of a builder, but he had a feeling there was a little more to it. Sometimes, when the world wasn't too much to handle, it was too easy to let fall away. Maybe he spent too much time daydreaming-- he was sure there was a word for that, when trances became so all encompassing, so engrossing.

"But I don't have time to think about that right now," he reminded himself, "I really need to fix this. It doesn't look like most of this redstone is salvageable, I'll have to get new supplies to repair it. Maybe some of the circuits are okay..?"

Scar nudged a repeater with his shoe, the device making an unnatural sloshing noise in his attempt to change the feed-in. He scrunched up his nose, "Okay, nope, gonna need to replace that, too."

Running a hand through his hair in defeat, he glanced towards Mumbo's storage system before shaking his head. It wouldn't be right to use the other man's supplies without asking, let alone waste them on a mistake made due to Scar's own carelessness. He'd have to make his way back to his original base and gather the materials from there once more. When he dropped by initially, he figured he'd gotten everything he needed, but apparently hadn't accounted for dissociation-induced redstone mishaps.

"I guess we're making a trip back," Scar announced to no one, finally picking up the empty bucket to set it safely aside. He made his way over to his tent, temporarily discarding any excess materials and bidding adieu to Jellie before grabbing his elytra and setting off.

Taking to the skies, Scar squinted against the wind as it roared in his ears. His hair parted itself from where it had stuck, short locks brushed back by the flowing breeze. With arms extended for balance, and maybe a dash of amusement, he lit his rockets and propelled himself into the distance.

-----

It wasn't long before he encroached on his base again, allowing his faux wings to glide him downward where he kicked out his legs to come to a soft landing. Scar stopped before the massive drill site just on the outskirts of the forest, heading towards the agglomeration of crates and boxes he had haphazardly stowed aside. He was certain there had to be the necessary hardware in one of the many containers, though which that may be was lost on him. At least, thanks to Mumbo and his new storage system, the chest monster he'd created would soon be a thing of the past.

"I wonder how that's going for him..." Scar pondered, striding over to a random shulker and beginning his sure-to-be protracted search.

"Scar?" a familiar voice interrupted, making him peer ahead to see the moustached man himself rounding the corner. "Hello there! I see you've made yourself rather at home at my base," Mumbo teased.

He couldn't help but chuckle, "That I have. I just needed to stop by and pick up some redstone and iron. With all the ore this place has quarried up, I was sure there's bound to be more of that here than back at Larry."

Mumbo faked surprise with a hearty grin, "Getting into mechanics, are we? Have the inner workings of the temple really had that much influence on you after only a few days?"

"Now I wouldn't say that," Scar shook his head and closed the lid of the grey shulker, seeing no point in hiding the truth. "I took a tumble holding a bucket of water and it kinda spilled on one of the contraptions. I'm sorry for the trouble-- but don't worry! I came here to fix it right up. I just didn't wanna waste your materials fixing my silly error."

The suited man waved his hand dismissively, "Nonsense, it's no trouble. Have you seen the improvements you've made to that place? I mean, of course you've seen them, you built them, but rhetorically speaking--" Mumbo cleared his throat, "Just don't fret over it, I trust that you'll have it fixed right up in no time."

Scar smiled, "Thanks, dude. Now I just have to find where on Earth I put those ore…"

Mumbo gave another laugh, "You know, you can feel free to use some of my things if need be. I have no idea how you expect to find anything in this mess. I'm only trying to do a basic look through so I know where to begin when it comes to the item sorter, but even that doesn't seem to do much good. I swear, it's like trying to play a very intense game of memory, with thousands of nonsensical cards all scattered about."

Scar snickered sheepishly at the comparison, "Yeah, no kidding. But being able to use some resources without flying all the way over here would be great. Thanks again, Mumbo. I don't know if there's anything you'll need here while working, but hey, consider it free range. We're doing these things for each other in the long run, anyway."

"I'd say, 'unless we don't switch back our deeds', but in all honesty? I'm beginning to miss the ol' living monument already."

The two exchange a chuckle before returning to their previous tasks, both going back to digging through the pile of chests in preparation for their projects.

It took longer than Scar wanted to admit to finally find the crate stocked with valuables-- sighing in relief at the sight and immediately beginning to pile the items into his inventory. There were pre-smelted metals from an iron farm, so he didn't have to bother with the ore, and the redstone he'd gathered was already in dust from, meaning all he'd have to do was craft the items after returning.

"I wonder if it would've been easier to stop by the shopping district and buy these directly, instead of making them by hand..." he said, "Oh well, saves on diamonds, and these had to be used some time, I guess."

"Talking to yourself over there?" Mumbo asked.

"Just thinking aloud is all."

"I see," the moustached man nodded, pushing himself up from where he'd been examining the supplies. "I found something neat from last year! Do you wanna see?"

"Sure!" Scar agreed, setting aside his intent of flying back in favour of seeing what it was Mumbo had to show him.

He smiled and stepped over to Scar, holding out a faded piece of paper for them both to see, "I found it stuck to the bottom of a shulker box! Can you believe we used to be competition so recently?" He joked.

Scar could only stare at the advert before him, a steele blue page embellished with a vault-like ring in the center. It meant nothing to the untrained eye, but to him, all of the company's horrors were sealed underneath. ConCorp read bold text in half-connected lettering, the logo finalizing its signature with a black bow tie adorning the bottom.

"Hardly," managed Scar, having just remembered he'd been asked a question, "But it wasn't that recent."

"It was practically yesterday if we're talking business," Mumbo snickered, "but we aren't. I'm not very good at business."

"Me neither, I prefer mayorship," he said in an attempt to change the subject.

Mumbo, however, didn't seem to notice, only turning to stare at Scar with eyes wide. "Are you kidding me? You were quite literally the richest Hermit of all last year! You're wonderful at business. Sahara was amazing, and I don't for a second doubt it was the most ambitious project of our group to date, but she had plenty of bugs, being the machine powered industry that she was. ConCorp, however? That was an utter monopoly! The thing lasted two bloody seasons!"

Scar chuckled awkwardly, "I know, I know, Cub and I worked very hard. But it wasn't all us, we couldn't have done it alone."

"Give yourself more credit," Mumbo insisted, "I'm more than convinced you could have gotten your business up and running even without the help of your Vex friends. Weren't they less prominent in your company last year, anyway? You did change your guy's name from ConVex to ConCorp, after all. I think that would imply less input on their part."

"Not really," he explained, though the tension building in his body was becoming harder to conceal. He had to keep his arms rigid so that they wouldn't shake, forcing in deep breaths to avoid the shaky ones that threatened to take their place. "We just thought it would be better for business, rebranding to something more gentlemanly and all."

Mumbo nodded, "Ah, that makes sense. Though I still don't understand how you managed to work with them to begin with. I likely wouldn't believe it if I hadn't seen it with my own two eyes. I mean business partners with the Vex? Friends, even? How'd you do it? Not to mention why? With all due respect, what makes one seek that out?"

Scar blinked hard at the influx of questions, "Oh, it's- it's really complicated, you might not understand. Cub started it, though. I joined the team not long after, but I wasn't there when he first struck the deal with Them."

"Huh, some deal," Mumbo remarked thoughtfully, and Scar nodded.

He had no idea.

"So what made you leave that behind?" Mumbo continued.

"What?" he asked, finding his thoughts hazy. They were static nothingness, but somehow also crashing into his skull. He found himself having to dig his way through them, while at the same time trying to bury them once he passed. The last thing Scar wanted was to do was hark back to the Vex, to beckon forth Their memory with his own.

The other man simply chuckled, oblivious to Scar's inner turmoil. "ConCorp, the Vex. Did you two just get bored? Having done the same thing for too long?"

"In a sense, you could definitely say we were tired of it. It just- well, it wasn't what we wanted to do anymore. We wanted to move on to new things."

"That's fair enough. Do you blokes still get along? Or did they take the corporation's end like a sour breakup?"

This time, Scar couldn't contain his wince. "We're still friends!" he insisted, "Of course the Vex are my friends."

Mumbo finally quirked a brow, "Are you sure about that? You don't have to worry about hiding some burnt corporal bridges from me, I'm not here to judge."

"Oh yeah, I'm positive," he nodded eagerly, "I'm just- I'm gonna go work on fixing that contraption I damaged, best to get it fixed before we have to switch back."

"Buddy, are you sure everything's alright? I'm sorry if I upset you or anything."

"Nah, I'm just peachy!" Scar announced with far too much false enthusiasm, internally cringing at his failed masking abilities. Not allowing any more time for his ruse to be cracked, he uttered a quick goodbye before adjusting the straps on his elytra and dashing off, leaping into the air and back towards the ruins.

"Scar, wait!" Mumbo tried, but he was already gone.

------

The returning flight was far from the peaceful journey he'd made to the excitation site. His artificial wings beat frantically, struggling to keep up as he charged forward with excessive firepower. He paid no mind to the safety protocol regarding the rocket's cool-down period, simply heralding through the air as fast as his elytra would carry him. Scar arrived back to the monument in a trip overall much faster than when he'd left, but it seemed to drag on for an eternity. The entire excursion consisted of a battle with his own mind-- a war in which he knew he was bound to lose, but he had to hold down the fort until he was on solid ground.

Scar was lucky not to crash into the debris upon landing, frantically stumbling to the dirt and having to grasp onto a piece of wreckage to maintain his balance. His legs nearly buckled under his weight, form trembling in spite of the deep breaths he gave it his all to draw in.

He grasped hard to the rubble, trying to anchor his brain into focus. He couldn't let his thoughts spiral, he couldn't think about Them. He knew grounding techniques, and he tried to rush his way through them.

Five things you can see.

He could see the golden heart, plants, stone, the golden heart again-- the thing was too anatomically correct, he'd seen horrors too similar to it before. And the sound, it was too damn loud, too hard to ignore. Its unsteady rhythm hammering in his ears alongside his own faltering pulse.

Forget visuals, four different noises?

Scar squeezed his eyes shut in an attempt to listen, focusing hard on the world around him. Still, he could only hear the heart. He could only hear it pounding, its once melodic notes like nails on a chalkboard. He could remember far too many times when he was left alone with nothing but his heartbeat and his pleas.

Tactile. Texture. What can you feel? Three things you can feel.

Internally, he screamed at his dulling senses to return. God, he didn't want to think about Them, it wasn't worth the risk. They'd been inside his head before, and the mere idea of having his thoughts broadcasted again made his stomach churn. Scar tried harder and harder to suppress the images bubbling to the surface, festering like maggots in an old wound. The more he tried to push them down, however, the fiercer they'd rise back up, and he choked down a sob in attempt to list the sensations he could currently identify.

He could feel the stone-- but he already said the stone, didn't he? He could also feel the sun. It was hot against his back. So hot. He was overheating.

The notes should have been a success, but the drops of sweat felt too akin to tricking blood. The sting of his hands felt too much like the friction burn of a rope. It felt too much like he was back with the Vex again, and as he finally sunk to the soil, he could no longer swim against the onslaught of memories crashing over him like a tidal wave.

They could still hear him, They could still hear him, They could still hear him, They could still get him--

------

The day he and Cub first found the courage to try and cut ties with the Vex had been a hellish one, and the two men weren't even successful in their attempt. Hence, of course, it being the first.

Still, it had taken ages for Scar to persuade Cub that it was even worth trying, the other man having believed it was impossible to sneak anything past the Vex on their own. Scar was persistent, however, and eventually convinced his friend they had a shot if they played their cards right, if they made the right proposal without their intentions being discovered.

They'd constructed their plans in secret for weeks; discussing them only inside of untold locations with hushed whispers, or in the form of coded scrawls they'd burn immediately after reading. They couldn't be too careful, that's what they'd tell themselves whenever they worried their precautionary measures may be over the top. Even so, when a so-called conference was put on the schedule --such events were far from any type of cordial meeting, despite having been assigned the title of one-- the men were hardly prepared for it.

Their conference room consisted of a needlessly grandiose suite, with floors of marble and walls carved from deep umber wood. The polished lumber was adorned with expensive paintings in aureate frames; antique laden shelves taking up the spaces they did not. Aesthetically pleasing decorative tactics were discarded in favour of showing off their riches in a possessive cluster, with the only average items being the table and its chairs sat in the dead center of the area. A chandelier of gemstone and gold swung from above, dangling by the same chains fated to one day bind their vassals.

"Concordats, greetings!" A Vex declared as the men were led through the doorway, hovering in the air at the opposing end of the surface.

"Greetings," parroted Cub minimally, Scar giving a plain nod beside him. Fewer words meant less chance at letting their guard down.

"We've been needing to speak with you," a different Vex chimed.

"Speak with you about the business," yet another visitant confirmed.

"We actually need to discuss similar matters with you all," Scar noted, voice and expression a façade of tranquility.

"You do?" the first asked, wide smile replaced with inquiry.

"Yes," managed Cub, "we want to make you an offer, one you can't refuse."

"I do like the sound of that!" the second snickered.

"We'll hear your offer," the Vex grinned, "we only have one question first!"

"Of course, what is it?" asked Scar, in mental awe of how well their exchange was going.

"Do you recognize these?" it asked, gesturing towards the white table where a blue light flashed, fading away to reveal a small pile of ash.

Cub and Scar glanced to one another in evident confusion, the latter of the two speaking once again, "Forgive me, but we're not sure what you're talking about."

"Oh, silly me!" the Vex giggled, another flash of luminesce encompassing the soot and leaving a stack of papers in its place. As if caught in a controlled gust, they blew from the surface and organized themselves midair; levitating in a cloud of magic.

All of their once burnt notes were lined up before them, cyphers needed to crack their messages included.

Still beaming with innocence, it continued, "How about now? Look familiar?"

The blood drained from their faces, and Scar could have sworn his heart was going to burst from his chest with how hard it was drumming. He wanted to wake up, because this had to be a nightmare.

"No, we have no idea what those are," he tried.

LAIR!

Overlapping voices screamed in his head, all sounding in haunting unison. Scar hastily clapped his hands over his ears, but it did nothing to silence the uproar emanating from within.

You try to break our contract then lie to our faces?

Foolish concordats.

Terrible secret keepers, terrible subjects.

Cub seized hold of Scar's arm and made a break for the door with the brunet in tow, reaching the exit and tugging desperately on the handles. They refused to turn under his grasp, and his eyes darted back towards the Vex; floating creatures growing ever closer to their imaginary bubble providing them with the illusion of safety.

More of Them were phasing in through walls, forms non-corporeal and having no need for the sealed entryway.

Apologize.

They all ordered, Scar flinching at the simultaneous projection. He lowered his hands and turned towards Them, watching Their unmoving grins with wide eyes.

Kneel before your gods and divulge your prayers, we may just show you mercy.

"I'm sorry-" Scar whimpered, but Cub was having none of it.

"No!" the man barked, "Screw this! This isn't worth it! None of this is worth it! He's right! The business, the money, the power, it-- it means nothing! Not when you treat us like this!"

They watched him step forward, his furious yells echoing through the expanse of the room, "We're done! And we mean it! You're going to get us go or else!"

An orchestra of shrill cackles filled the air.

Oooh, it's angry.

They're fighting back!

Teach them a lesson.

"You won't dare make another-" Cub's retaliation was cut short with a cry, the bearded man dropping to the ground in a swift crash.

"Cub!" Scar called, but his attempt to step towards his friend was met only with a searing pain through his legs and the subsequent buckling of his knees. He fell to the marble, limbs heavy as if they'd been weighted. It took considerable force to balance on his arms, appendages left shaking as he peered back up towards the Vex.

He regretted it instantly.

•••

(Part two)

[pigtownchronicles]

Chapter 2.1 - Back to Reality

Dennis and Barry didn’t speak much for the rest of the weekend, after their night out at Depot. It was clear that something between them was withering in a way that was rather unexpected, but neither of them could articulate. Barry, however, was closer to understanding it. It was the same sensation that he always felt after a circuit party, or an orgy, when he was back in the quiet house again. He was back in reality. The party, the club, the sex, all of that was just fantasy, it couldn’t penetrate him. He couldn’t allow it to penetrate him. But when he saw someone like Samuel, or Parker, who not only allowed that energy to flow through them, but lived and breathed it, all he felt was restless. Like he’d done scuba diving, with all of this protection, only to discover other guys he knew had gills. That Dennis had intruded on that rather sacred experience, injected his own kind of order and justice and control into it only made him feel more sour, more disconnected, more jealous of what he could be, if he hadn’t chosen all of this.

Dennis, on the other hand, was feeling usurped. Annoyed that Barry had dragged him to that party, annoyed that he had challenged him when it came to Kyle and threatening to tell his father, annoyed that he felt bad about it, most of all. He’d done the right thing, he was sure of that. Kyle shouldn’t have been there, he was too young. It was illegal. Pretty much everything that was happening in that club was illegal, in fact. But Barry had put him on the defensive, a position Dennis hated, since he was very careful to always maintain a moral high ground. He felt like he needed to defend something that ought to be obvious. The fact that Barry apparently disagreed only made his own values feel more slippery. 

Barry dealt with the frustration by going to the gym, and stopping off at a gay sauna on the way back for a little action. Dennis dealt with it by making calls to the health department, the liquor control board, and the police department, reporting the myriad of violations he had witnessed at Depot on Friday. Neither of them felt satisfied, by the end of it. The energy that Barry was craving just wasn’t there, like it had been at Depot. The guys were all too nervous, too embarrassed, mostly older closeted men with wives in the suburbs. It only made Barry feel more hemmed in than before. Dennis kept getting the runaround from every agency he called. They would seem interested, and then as soon as he mentioned where he had been and they confirmed the address, the person on the other line would go quiet, say that wasn’t their jurisdiction, thank him for his vigilance and hang up on him. Only once, with a police officer, did he manage to get a little bit of info out of him. “Look, the folks you ought to talk to are down at Precinct 27. They handle everything in that neighborhood.” Frustrated, and again feeling like he was running into some bureaucratic red tape he hadn’t expected, he decided he’d pay a visit to the precinct sometime in the next week, and get some answers there. Surely they would have a more difficult time dismissing his complaints in person.

Monday came for them both. Dennis headed for the hospital--Monday was usually a day for appointments, and getting his surgeries for the rest of the week planned out and organized. Barry headed into the office, dreading it more than he had in some time. He’d hoped that seeing Samuel and having a chance to blow off some steam would have helped soften the blow of being passed over for a promotion, again. Instead, he just felt caught between two worlds, one unsatisfactory foot in each. He couldn’t invest himself entirely in his job--it bored him to death, and he didn’t understand how Dennis could stand being so normal all the time--but if he didn’t, he’d never get the respect there he longed for. Each time he saw Samuel though, it was like looking at some amazing being. He was so free. Sure, his life likely wasn’t easy, but it seemed effortless and fun and exhilarating in a way Barry’s had never been. It also terrified him, all the same, and he hadn’t even been able to hack an hour on the dance floor on Friday. He got settled in his office, and got caught up on his email for the first couple of hours, before the usual Monday morning meeting was due to start.

This is what he was dreading the most, of the entire day. He showed up a bit late, took a seat towards the far end of the table. Evan Ternbull, his current boss, was sitting at the front, and off to his left was Richard Carlisle, the man that Barry privately considered his rival, but they had never spoken more than a few words to each other, since Richard was a relatively new hire, and they’d been working on different projects.

“As you know,” Evan said once getting everyone in order, “I’m going to be transferring over to a new project team in a month or so, which I know all of you are so disappointed to hear about. I’m happy to announce today that Richard here will be stepping up into my role and overseeing your team for the remainder of your project. As you know, Richard is relatively new here, but he comes with some great outside experience, and I am very confident that he will be a great project lead.”

The folks around the table clapped for Richard, who stood up, looking a bit sheepish. How old could he be, really? Twenty-five, twenty-six? Slender, twinkish but clearly straight, Richard got up and introduced himself, talking about his wife, and about the baby they had on the way. The table clapped again, and Barry tried to mask his scowl as he clapped along. Part of him felt a bit bad now for feeling so entitled to the position. Dennis and he were doing just fine with their incomes, and he knew that kids were expensive--one of many reasons he’d never wanted one. But as soon as that sympathy popped up, he pushed it back down. Just because he was straight, just because he was “starting a family” didn’t mean he was entitled to more money than him. It didn’t mean he was entitled more respect.

That was it, wasn’t it? The respect. He didn’t feel respected here. He didn’t feel respected at home, even. Dennis loved him, sure, but did he respect him, really? Did it feel like a relationship between equals all the time? It didn’t. Barry would goad him, and half the time Dennis would just dismiss him out of hand, refuse to even engage, like fighting with Barry was simply beneath him. Like he knew that no matter how dissatisfied he might be, he’d never leave him, because he liked the money, and the lifestyle, and Barry’s own job here couldn’t afford it. 

He could barely focus for the rest of the meeting. After an hour, he faked a phone call, and retreated to his cubicle to think. Mostly, he stared at the little business card that Hugh had given him, and thought about what on earth “Broker” might mean. Someone in the drug trade, apparently, if Hugh worked for him. So much of that conversation had been...weirdly cryptic, but Hugh had been right about the central proposition. Barry was unsatisfied with his life, and more hemmed in he felt--by Evan, by Dennis, by Richard now--

“Hey, Billy, right?”

He was startled up from his thought, looked up and saw Richard looming in the doorway of his cubicle. The meeting was over apparently--was this the first thing he’d thought to do? Hunt Barry down?

“Barry, actually.”

“Oh shoot, sorry man. Everything alright? You zipped out of there in a hurry.”

“Yeah, just the husband, you know. Everything sounds like an emergency to him.”

Richard laughed, “Yeah man, I get it. Hey, Evan told me that you were on the shortlist for the position, and I just wanted to let you know that he thought you would have been a great choice too, and he wants you to keep throwing your hat in the ring, alright? He just didn’t think that this position would be a better stepping stone for me, since we’re at the tail end of a project, about to ship. He knows that wouldn’t have been a challenge for you.”

Barry’s face was growing a bit heated. Evan thought so, huh? Then why wasn’t Evan here telling him this? Why send this cherub faced little shit to come apologize on his behalf? “Sure thing, I understand. Besides, you got the growing family to feed, right?” Barry said, stretching his mouth into something he hoped was a smile and not a sneer, and from the way Richard’s face lit up back, he must have managed well enough. They chatted a bit about Barry’s current duties, and then Richard moved on to the next member of the team.

That settled it, then. If nothing else, he would have his curiosity satisfied. If it was a service that could make his life better, than great. Why care that the info came from a drug dealer? He pulled out the card Hugh had given him on Friday--it was rather simple. All it had was a name, Ian Miller, the word “Broker” below it, and on the bottom of the card, a phone number. He picked up his phone, and gave the mysterious number a call.

***

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[emachinescat]

And That Would Be Enough

A Merlin Fan-Fiction

by @emachinescat

@febuwhump day 27 - “I wish I had never given you a chance”

Summary: In a moment of grief, Arthur says something to his newly appointed Court Sorcerer that he instantly regrets. 

Characters: Merlin, Arthur

Words: 2,752

TW: None

Note: Emotional whump is still whump, right? :) This was written while sick, and I didn't have time to edit, so please bear with me if there are any mistakes. I will go back and edit after posting; I'm on a bit of a time crunch. This takes place in an AU Camelot where Arthur lives, the knights are all alive, and Merlin is made Arthur's court sorcerer.

Keep reading here, or on AO3!

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Words are powerful things.  As king of Camelot, Arthur Pendragon knew very well how a few simple words had the power to heal or to destroy, to build or to tear down, to foster friendship or feed hatred.  He had seen words ruin lives, give hope, change the course of entire nations.  His own words had impacted his kingdom and the people around him in unprecedented ways. 

The words of a king held the potential for great and terrible things, which was why Arthur always chose his words as king so carefully.  The words of a grieving friend had just as much power for making or breaking a world, if not more so – and despite all his diplomacy, all of his training, the king of Camelot still struggled to choose his words wisely when he was hurting, particularly when he was speaking to those closest to him.  Perhaps that is the way of humanity – we allow our naturally self-destructive nature to chip away at the relationships and people that mean the most to us, and sometimes, when life spins too far out of our control, we snap, and words that we do not mean, never would mean, come flying out like an arrow from a ranger’s bow, aimed straight for the hearts of our dearest friends.

Now, Arthur Pendragon’s words had changed no one’s life more completely than his former manservant, Merlin’s.  Just a week ago, Arthur’s lips had formed the words in front of his court and Camelot that Merlin was not only to be a freeman of Camelot, but that magic was legal in the kingdom after over twenty-five years of fear and hatred for peaceful magic users, and that it was Merlin, his new Court Sorcerer, who would oversee the magical protection of Camelot, and who would ensure that magic was only used for good.  Arthur would never forget the disbelieving joy shining in Merlin’s eyes in that moment as he gazed out upon the home that finally accepted him, looked at his king and saw nothing but pride and friendship in his gaze where he had once feared fear and judgment.  It had been a staggering moment for Arthur, that weighty realization that Merlin had truly lived his life in fear of being killed because of how he was born, that the king was now witnessing a soul set free and the beginning of a new era.  Never, he told himself as he watched his Court Sorcerer wave tentatively to the gathered crowd, would he allow Merlin to go back to feeling like he was a mistake, like he was a monster, like he wasn’t enough.

He meant that oath when he made it to himself.  Unfortunately, tragedy has a way of taking our promises, even the most sacred ones, and stripping them from us like bark from a tree.  Pain and loss break us down and force us to our knees and pull hurtful words from the pits of our pain and we throw them around at those who want nothing more than to help us.  

The attack on the patrol had been unexpected and brutal.  For the first time, king and warlock had fought openly, side by side, and Arthur saw yet again how powerful his clumsy friend truly was, and his heart swelled with pride and love for the man who had stood so loyally by his side for so long.  Merlin protected his king and the knights diligently, but as so often happens in any battle, someone strayed too far from the group and fell through the cracks.  Merlin tried to save Sir Arnold, a young knight who Arthur had personally scouted, recruited, and trained as part of his initiative to bring in more loyal and talented men regardless of nobility.  Arnold had been a farmer’s son from a small village on the outskirts of Camelot, and he was a natural fighter, a brave, selfless young man who had wormed his way into the hearts of Arthur and his men.  

He was only twenty years old when he was killed in the senseless, stupid bandit attack, and though Arthur had seen Merlin fight, watched the pain at the loss fill his eyes the moment that Arnold fell, the king’s grief and loss shrouded his vision and he lashed out after the battle at the only person who might have been powerful enough to stop it and hadn’t.  He knew that Merlin had done everything he had to protect all of them, and knew that Merlin too had been close to the young knight, who had thought magic was the most amazing art in the five kingdoms and had followed Merlin around like a loyal pup, bright eyes alight for more displays of magic.  And yet, despite knowing this, Arthur’s words careened out of his grasp in his shock and pain, and he said words to Merlin that took everything his closest friend held dear and smashed it to a million pieces.  Never had Arthur regretted words he had spoken so desperately the second they left his tongue.

“I wish I had never given you a chance!  What’s the point of your magic, Merlin, if you can’t keep the people who trust in you alive?  Arnold trusted that you would keep him safe, and you let him down.  You failed him.  Maybe my father was right.  Maybe magic’s more trouble than it’s worth!”

He didn’t mean a word of it, of course.  But Arthur had just watched a young man who had had so much potential die before his eyes, cut down by a bandit’s sword – a weapon normally so useless in the face of magic.  Grief had sunk its raking claws into his flesh and spit vile lies into his ears, and he lashed out at the person who had just saved his life, and everyone else’s – Gwaine’s, Elyan’s, Lancelot’s, Percival’s, Leon’s, Arthur’s lives.  One person had gotten himself into danger that even Merlin hadn’t been fast enough to stop.  And yet, instead of focusing on the fact that Merlin had saved everyone else, instead of thinking about how Merlin would already feel guilty and devastated at his perceived failure, Arthur allowed his emotions to twist his words into something to harm, not to heal, and he watched with horror as Merlin’s tentative grasp on control and self-worth crumpled with his face.

Arthur could feel the glares of his knights on him the moment the words escaped, but he had eyes only for his Court Sorcerer, who was backing away with a horrible, broken look in his eyes.  Arthur reached out a hand as if trying to grab the hurtful things he had said, as if trying to snatch them back.  But it was too late, and he lowered his hand.  “Merlin, I–”

Merlin shook his head, and Arthur could see him trembling.  “I’m sorry, Sire,” the sorcerer said, then he turned and disappeared, quite literally, into thin air.  Arthur knew he wouldn’t be far – he wouldn’t leave them unprotected, but decided to give Merlin time before he pursued this again.  Meanwhile, he knew, his knights would not be pleased with him, and as he predicted, they made no attempt to hide their disapproval for his treatment of his closest friend.  Arthur carried Sir Arnold’s body on his own horse, and the ride back to the citadel was passed in solemn silence.

Arthur dearly missed Merlin’s company during the short but hard ride home.

***

That evening, after Arthur had personally spoken to Arnold’s poor father, had somehow found it within him to give him the news that no parent ever wanted to hear, Arthur found himself on The Balcony – the one that his father, and now Arthur himself, used to look out upon his kingdom and address his people.

For a while, he just gazed out at the citadel, at the manifestation of all that his father before him, and then he himself, with Gwen and Merlin and his knights by his sides, had built and refined.  After a while, he realized that he was no longer alone, though he could see or hear no one.  

“I can tell you’re there, Merlin,” the king said heavily.

Merlin shimmered into view to Arthur’s left.  The king glanced over, slightly amused, mostly proud, to see that Merlin had unconsciously adopted the same stance as his king – spine erect, hands folded and forearms resting on the railing, chin high and face set firm.  In that moment, Arthur felt power and nobility radiating off of the sorcerer more acutely than he ever had before.  For the first time, perhaps, he could truly feel the weight of the destiny Merlin had told him about, see the prophesied warlock Emrys stand tall with the world placed squarely on his shoulders.  Arthur felt an aching desire to take some of that weight from his friend and bear it on his own back.

Instead, because it was the only way he knew how to deal with his emotions and affection for his former servant, Arthur complained.  “It’s freaky that you can do that, you know.”

“Do what?”

“Turn yourself invisible.  Are you sure it’s a power you can use responsibly?”

He imagined an amused smirk on Merlin’s lips, but when he glanced over at his friend, the warlock’s face had not changed; it seemed to have been carved from stone.

And so Arthur pushed back his fear and discomfort and grief and pain and said what he truly needed to say, despite how uncomfortable it was, despite how much he felt that he had no right to even speak to Merlin in that moment, let alone request his forgiveness, his friendship.  “I cannot express how sorry I am for what I said to you today.”

This time, Merlin shrugged – Arthur caught the motion in the corner of his eye.  “You spoke the truth, Sire.”

Arthur really hated it when Merlin called him Sire .  

“No, I didn’t,” the king insisted, and when Merlin continued to stare forward, he couldn’t help himself – couldn’t stand to see Merlin shouldering a blame and a pain that Arthur had helped put there, had encouraged with thoughtless words and his own misplaced grief.  He reached out, grabbed Merlin by the shoulders, and spun him around so they were facing one another.  Merlin looked up at him, and Arthur saw why Merlin had refused to look at him.  

He was crying.

Arthur let go of his friend’s thin frame so abruptly it was as if he had been burned.  “Gods, Merlin, I’m sorry.  I had no right – no right – to make you feel like Arnold’s death was your fault.”

A tear crawled down Merlin’s face, caught on the edge of his cheekbone, and hovered there for a moment that spanned eternity.  Finally, it plunged, disappearing into the neckerchief that Merlin had insisted he keep wearing despite his new and improved title.  

“You made yourself very clear,” the warlock said in the most measured voice he could muster.  Anyone other than Arthur might have been fooled by the stoicism, but the king, who had known Merlin for so long and been through so much with him, heard the tiniest of tremors and could not recall a time that he hated himself more than this.  “And anyway,” Merlin continued.  “You were right.”  He spread his hands out wide, and magic, cerulean sparks of light that Arthur had come to associate with everything good that Merlin was, sprang to life between them.  As the king watched, the color changed from blue to purple to a dark, blood red.  “What is the point of my power if it can’t protect everyone ?”

Arthur, having been reminded so fully the power of words, chose his next ones very carefully.  “No one,” he said slowly, “not even the great Emrys , not even my oldest, dearest friend, can take care of everyone all the time.”

Another tear rambled down Merlin’s cheek, curled around his trembling chin before dropping off to join the first.  “But you were right, Arthur.  Arnold – he trusted me.”

“And he was right to.”  Arthur put every ounce of conviction he possessed into his assurance.  “I saw what happened, Merlin.  The moment he was hit, you were protecting Gwaine from a surprise attack from behind.  Your back was turned at just the wrong moment.  Arnold had wandered out of your line of sight, as well.  And you did everything to save him when he went down.”

“It wasn’t enough.”

“Sometimes our best isn’t enough,” Arthur reminded Merlin.  “But we have to make it enough.  We have to understand that even if we can’t protect everyone all the time, that we ourselves are still enough.  As long as we try , it has to be enough.”

“Well, it’s not.”

“I know.”

They stood in silence, and they grieved their fallen friend.  Somewhere along the way, Arthur’s hand found its way onto the back of Merlin’s neck, and without either of them realizing it was happening, the king pulled his dear friend into an embrace, and together they wept for the good man that had been lost.

When Merlin finally drew away, his eyes red and puffy – Arthur knew his own must look the same – he managed a shaky smile that didn’t reach his eyes, but Arthur knew that for now, it would have to be enough.  “I know you didn’t mean what you said,” the warlock acknowledged.  

“But it still hurt you,” Arthur observed.  Merlin dropped his eyes.  

“It doesn’t matter.”

“It does .  Merlin, I would be dead a million times over if it weren’t for you.  So would the knights.  But – but , that does not mean that if something happens to one of us that you failed.  You may be magic itself, but you’re still only one person.”

“Technically, I’m two,” Merlin argued miserably.  “And Emrys is supposed to keep everyone safe.”

Arthur studied his friend in the moonlight, then patted him kindly on the back.  “When I look at you, whether you’re doing powerful magic or tripping over a blade of grass, I don’t see Emrys and Merlin – I just see you .  And you keep me safe, you always have.  You do your job, and you do it well, Merlin.  Sometimes, people are lost, and it hurts .  But the only person you have control over is yourself.  Something I have had to learn the hard way as king is that you can’t always keep everyone safe.  You just have to do your best.”

Merlin sniffled, and he now looked like a lost child rather than a powerful sorcerer.  When he spoke, his voice was thin, weak.  “Do you still wish you’d never given me a chance?”

The question, asked sincerely, struck Arthur in the heart like an assassin’s blade.  “I never should have said that,” he said earnestly.  “And I know that I hurt you, and that you will spend years fighting those words said in a moment of pain, but I promise you that I will not rest until I have convinced you of the truth – that I have never been happier, or more proud, to have you by my side, old friend.  I’m delighted to have given you – and your magic, and our destiny – a chance.”

“Maybe you have the makings of a great king, after all,” Merlin joked, and this time, the tiniest of smiles glinted in his eyes.  He added mischievously, “Tell anyone I said that, and I’ll turn you into a toad.”

Arthur smirked.  “I don’t know, Merlin – maybe being a toad would be easier than all of this.”

They sobered at the collective thought of the friend they had lost.  Merlin scrubbed his face with the back of his hand.  After a moment of subdued silence, he took up the olive branch his king had offered him and joked, “But just think about how many things would want to kill you if you were a toad.”

Arthur raised an eyebrow.  “And that’s different than now because…?”

Merlin gave a curt nod as the two, in some unspoken agreement, turned and began to make their way back into the castle.  “Fair point.”

“Either way, though,” Arthur pressed, jabbing his elbow playfully into Merlin’s side, “I’d have you to protect me, right?”

Merlin took far too long to think about his answer.

“Merlin!”

“It’s just I’m not too fond of toads,” Merlin admitted.

“Merlin!”

And side by side, king and warlock made their way through the grief and uncertainty and guilt and hurt the way they always did –

Together.

[darksunrising]

Sola Gratia (9/?)

Masterlist

Rating / Warnings : General audiences, no particular warnings.

Fandom : Bram Stoker’s Dracula, BBC’s Dracula, various Dracula and vampire lore.

Part 9/? (2000 words)

Author’s notes : I’m trying to get the chapters a more consistent length, I think 2000-2500 is good ! Means I’ll be able to work more consistently, but please don’t hesitate to tell me what you think about it ! Also, sorry for all the build-up, but a girl’s gotta set the decor a bit !

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During the following weeks, the presence of the Count became almost familiar. Every day, he waited for me with a different kind of pastry. I tried to protest at first, but quickly had to make my peace with it. At some point, seeing me wince at my terrible coffee, he forbade me to drink it anymore, and added that to my daily breakfast. I asked him exactly once why he insisted on feeding me, to which he replied that he liked my blood healthy, with a toothy grin. I hit him over the arm, he laughed. Other than that, he was careful not to step over my boundaries, and seemed to find the way to only be there at the appropriate time.

That was not the case for Leah, however, who was delighted to see Vlad was going to be a recurring presence in our lives. The two of them got along far better than I would have wanted. Vlad especially enjoyed playing along with her when she started asking probing questions about the both of us, although I had to admit he was an expert at deviating any question that could have revealed his true nature.

It took me some time to fully realize how much he had actually seen, and lived. He died around the 1470s, which meant he had all the time in the world to see the Sistine Chapel being painted, the construction of the Eiffel Tower, or the damn french Revolution. He could have just been a very polyvalent historian, which is what I told Leah. She interpreted that as a challenge, considering he and I were, as she put it, “introverted nerds who need to see the light of the sun once in a goddamn while”. She started dragging us along in random activities. There was a pottery class, to which I was barely able to make the Leaning Flower Pot Of Pisa, while she somehow made an incredible owl sculpture, and Vlad had made a delicate greek-inspired vase. Seeing him, sleeves rolled up over his elbows, hair tied up in a ponytail, his long fingers working in precise, expert gestures, probably had noting to do with my absolute failure to make anything correct. I decided then that manual activities were a no-go for me in the car ride, where I sulked on the backseat, while Leah and Vlad were still crying-laughing about my sorry excuse for a pot.

After the rousing success of that experience, she wasn't about to stop. We did a haunted castle themed escape game, which Vlad curiously sucked at. That would explain some stuff. Leah then found out that a Renaissance faire was taking place in a small town, about an hour or two outside the city, and decided we definitely had to go. I tried to pretend I had too much work and wouldn't be able to make it, but Vlad and her insisting, I caved, and marked down my calendar with the red pen of defeat.

Being stuck in period costumes with the both of them wasn't the only reason I tried protesting. Laurent really did throw a ton of work on my shoulders, and that wasn't considering the whole Stephan Helder situation. The kid was highly motivated, sure, but he started making me feel uneasy, for some reason. After all my classes, he came to chat, and always found a way to ask questions about Vlad. Strangely phrased questions, or about how he couldn't find publications under his name. Legitimate questions, to be fair, but his insistence was bugging me.

“I'm telling you, that is weird. Those are weird questions”, I told Vlad, sitting on my windowsill. He didn't react. “I am serious, what if he knew ?”

“How would he know ?”, he sighed. “Why would he even want to know ?”

“Well, that's a fair question. Which needs an answer, don't you think ?”

He tilted his head, softly smiling. “I think you are being a bit paranoid.”

“I spend most of my free time hanging out with an immortal murder-machine, I think I deserve the right to be a bit paranoid”, I snapped.

“Fair enough”, he laughed.

Being immortal had to have dulled his sense of danger. Although, I could see how a skinny 20-year-old medieval history student wouldn't spontaneously raise red flags.

“By the way, I am going back to Romania”, he told me.

I felt a small pinch to my heart. “Oh.”

“Only for a few days”, he completed with a smirk. “I have to pick up some things, and oversee the moving company. I do not trust them with half my things.”

I furrowed my brow. “Moving company ?”

“Oh, did I not mention it ?”, he innocently replied. “Before I even arrived, I bought a little something a little ways outside the city. The renovations are done, and you of all people understand I cannot live there without a decent library.”

I took a second to process it. He had a smug look, obviously enjoying my confusion. I had to say I didn't even think about where he spent his nights. I figured he either turned into a bat and hanged somewhere upside down, or simply didn't sleep. Did he even need to rest ? Gods, so many questions I didn't even think to ask. Every day, I felt like I discovered a puddle, only to realize it was part of a lake.

“When I come back, would you come visit ?”, he asked, sounding a bit hesitant.

“Sure. I mean, as long as I don't have to wear heels if you decide to go feral on me.”

He took a dead-serious expression. “I promise you, Eris Cetero, that as long as you live, I will never, ever, make you wear heels again.”

I threw my head back with a groan of agony. Was it so bad that this kind of humor was actually funny to me now ? Was having a six century old bloodthirsty creature imply he might try to murder me again really that hilarious ? Apparently so, as I was unable to contain a giggle. Maybe it was because the look he had was all but threatening. Maybe because every time I was near him, even with all that happened, I felt... Safe. For a few weeks, I had been able to decide staying over at the University library until ungodly hours. I didn't have to thing about what time I had to leave at before it became too risky for a woman with very limited knowledge of martial arts, alone.

I mean, he was arguably more dangerous than any encounter I might have had, but still... I knew he wouldn't hurt me. Maybe it was wishful thinking. Then again, he had plenty of occasions to lose it. Last week, for instance, I had no idea what to expect when I left my apartment, dosed with painkillers, as Mother Nature, that ruthless bitch, decided to drop by for her monthly visit.  He was simply waiting for me at the usual spot, looking a bit off, but holding a large box of chocolates along with my breakfast. He made himself scarce for the following three days, but I could tell he tried to act natural.

“I should let you get some rest”, Vlad told me, dragging me out of my thoughts.

I nodded, slowly. “When are you leaving ?”

“Some time tomorrow. I will still pick you up, if that is what worries you.”

He smiled, teasing. “Yeah, that's... That's it. I'd miss my personal chauffeur.” I looked away a second. “Now, get off my window, I need to sleep.”

“Of course, my Lady”, he replied, and backed away with an overly low bow. “I bid you good night.”

Once again, with a fluttering sound, the usual bat replaced the tall man. I called out to him, offering my hand as a perch. The tiny black creature gripped a finger. I would have expected a Vampire Bat, to be fair, and almost laughed when I realized it was a common little brown bat, only changing in the darker color.

“Well, don't you look adorable”, I told him.

I could take a more frightening appearance, if you want me to.

“Telepathy, huh ? That's new”, I commented. Nothing surprised me that much anymore, to be honest.

I try not to pry, it's usually considered rude.

“You don't say.”

He stretched out his wings. They were so thin I could see the tiny veins running across the membrane. I had to use all my will not to just scoop him up and pet his tiny head, or scratch his belly. Now, that would have been rude. Probably. Those kind of reflexions were a bit new to me.

I would stay here all night if I could, but I am starting to feel a bit hungry.

“Oh, by all means. I won't keep you.”

I heard a small squeaky sound I interpreted as a laugh, and he left. I closed the window, and the quiet made me rethink the situation. If he was gone, that would leave me some time to look into the Helder situation without him interfering. Now, I just needed the help of my favorite professional stalker. With a little smile, I slipped under my covers, and almost instantly faded into sleep.

~ ~ ~

After Vlad let me off at the University, he only came over to say hi to Leah, and announce his departure. He left right after, with a kiss for her hand, and one for my forehead.

“Do you need some ice ? You look pretty hot”, she snarked at me once he was gone. “A cold shower, perhaps ?”

“Oh, shut up, will you ?”, I groaned, placing the back of my hands onto my cheeks.

She snickered. She was the best friend I could ever hope to have, but man, as soon as someone was involved, she became absolutely unbearable.

“By the way, I need your help with something”, I told her, lowering my voice a little.

“Oooh, sneaky voice, I like it already. Tell me.”

I brought her inside, and we went straight to my office, a small, cluttered room in the old building. I dragged a folding chair next to mine, behind the heavy wooden desk.

“I'm having a weird feeling about a transfer student”, I told her. “I wondered if you could-”

Before I could even finish my sentence, she had already taken out her laptop, her glasses sitting on her nose. She turned on a bunch of apps she left running in the background, and turned to me.

“Name ?”

“Stephan Helder, with 'ph'”, I told her.

I kind of felt bad about it. If it was nothing, I was just prying into his personal life – or having Leah pry, anyway. She began typing away, and in less than three minutes, she had results. Stephan Jonathan Helder, 18, your typical genius type. Skipped a few middle-school classes, finished high-school at 15, with straight-As. Spotless criminal record, less so for the medical one, with a few bad cases of pulmonary infections. Didn't have one in years, though. Seemed like he was from a good family, but then again, no information on them showed up. Huh. I asked Leah to look into them.

“That's crazy”, she said after a good five minutes. “I mean, there's barely anything.”

“You mean he's an orphan, or something ?”

“No, it's just blacked out. I mean, most of the stuff has been scraped, erased.”

She sounded annoyed, but also excited. I knew she loved a challenge.

“Nothing I can't break”, she commented, and went back to it.

After a few more minutes, she finally had a triumphal shout.

“Got 'em”, she told me. “Stephan Jonathan Helder, the father is Thomas Mark Helder, and the mother is Mary... Huh. That's a cool name.”

“What is ?”, I asked, leaning over her shoulder to read.

My blood froze in my veins instantly.

Mary Van Helsing.

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Taglist : @carydorse @angelicdestieldemon @bloodhon3yx @thewondernanazombie @battocar @moony691 @mjlock @thebeautyofdisorder @festering-queen @paracosmfantasy

[theholycovenantrpg]

CONGRATULATIONS, ALI! YOU’VE BEEN ACCEPTED FOR THE ROLE OF ORIAS.

Admin Cas: Ugh, there’s so much I loved about your application, Ali. Orias is a tricky nut to crack, I think, because it would be easy to mistake their desire for worship as a desire for power, or their want of a legacy for sovereignty, but you didn’t. Their magic and incantations are such an important part of who they are — in fact, it’s the very essence of them — and you didn’t shy away from that. I think what particularly impressed me was the way that you weaved together all their separate motivations and related them to their status as the Vice of Greed: you said it best yourself, although Orias takes and takes and takes, they are also always building. I genuinely can’t wait to see what you do with our self-proclaimed False Prophet! Please create and send in your account, review the information on our CHECKLIST, and follow everyone on the FOLLOW LIST. Welcome to the Holy Land!

OUT OF CHARACTER

Alias | Ali.

Age | 23. 

Personal Pronouns | She/her.

Activity Level | 5/10. I’m finishing up my last year of nursing school so there’s certainly days where I need to buckle down and focus. My lectures and clinical hours also happen to be quite long, so I’ll most likely pop up around the nighttime.  

Timezone | EST. 

Triggers | REMOVED.

How did you find the group?  | It was whispered to me in my sleep (Rosey gave me a lil’ rec). 

Current/Past RP Accounts | Insert ‘it’s been 84 years’ meme here.  

IN CHARACTER

Character | Orias. 

What future plots do you have in mind for the character? | 

I.                             THOU CHOSE TO FEED THY DEMONS. 

Greed, as fitting as it is, has made Orias insatiable above all else. Their heedful, yet steady rise to conquer a sense of blood-curdling worship, succession, and power is absolutely inevitable. Whether it’s by a cunning, violent force of hand or simply mere influence among distant, anguished wanderers, Orias has lived enough lives to know where they stand among a world full of futile creatures – or so they believe. I love the idea of Orias acknowledging the strength and power they hold between bared teeth and nimble fingertips. The idea of them feeding into that thought, turning a slight nose up at the inconsequentiality of their fellow demons, angels, and gifted mortals. In their own sense of the word, they are some sort of God and they’ll be gaped at as if they were one – whether you condemn the thought of their depraved divinity or not. I’m interested to explore how far their greed pushes them into believing they can modestly oversee all factions with the intent of enforcing the certainty of their future, heredity, dark sorcery, and lineage onto all beings. What will they give up in return for bleeding, unwavering worship? Will they ever be fully satiated? How callously will they tip toe the line of thunderous, earth-shattering power? Who will they decide to turn away from in the process – especially when no one is keeping a close eye on their every waking gesture? Will they succeed? Or will they fall just like Lucifer once had? Only time will tell.    

II.                         THOU CHOSE INSATIABLE GREED ABOVE ALL ELSE. 

When Lucifer had fallen from his own grace, Orias knew what they must do in order to continue their destiny, their succession, and everything in between. It took nearly little to no thought when they began to pry pieces of themself from the flesh of his skin – from the very carved bones of his ribs. You must carry on, as you were always meant to do, they thought. And that is exactly what they did, as they carried their invocations and prophecies under granite-grey feathers and silver veils. Now, don’t be so foolish. If Orias was able to look at the fall of Lucifer as a mere inconvenience to their overall plan, why would it not be the same for Damien? 

I want to explore and test the idea of Orias’ loyalty to Damien (as well as the other Vices) for the sole fact that he is the Leader of the Vices. A title they do not believe he should be able to harness for as long as he lives – a title they believe could belong to them. To Judas. It is an idea that could potentially further ensure their destiny – a position that would bleed into the pages of their legacy, along with all of their ink-stained balms and primordial secrets. If woven correctly (and approved by Judas’ and Damien’s mun, as well as the admins), this could potentially be a piece to the puzzle of their character arc. In this, I would want to explore the probability of Orias gradually turning their back on Damien and the Vices as a whole. The manipulativeness behind their biting, eloquent syllables as they speak cunningly ill of his leadership to others. Perhaps Orias even convinces Judas that the two of them could rule in equal measure – that they could promise to take the Realm of Infernum to beautiful, earth-shattering heights and smother the idea of Damien’s iron-clad God complex (and maybe – just maybe Orias fucks over Judas in the process). And all but bone-achingly slow, Orias sinks Damien’s stature a little further. To get to this point, Orias knows that they must be weary of Abaddon, Judas, and Azazel – that they must study Damien and play the part of an abiding, loyal Vice, whether they’re able to execute the will of their leader or not. But alas, Orias awaits the vision that depicts his downfall – whether it is by their force of hand or not.

Overall, I want to ensure and promise adaptability on my end when plotting with other muns. I’m wholeheartedly open to changing/altering anything mentioned – I’m even more open to Orias failing miserably, considering how tightly woven Abaddon, Judas, Azazel, and Damien are. I’m very much just interested in developing and exploring their subtle ruthlessness, gilded serpent-like ways, and sheer manipulativeness behind all covetous actions – no matter the outcome. 

III.                        THOU CHOSE WAVERING COMPANIONSHIP. 

As much as they wield their witchcraft and gape at unexpecting, anguished wanderers for some sort of promised lineage in return, it rings true that Orias has never expected anything from Azazel. I would love to explore the overall theme of this dynamic considering that Orias has never really seemed to love anything at all – nor have they granted another being without a heavy price. To have a creature of Orias’ extent love you so deeply, so openly, so raw – it’s dangerous. I so badly want to tap into that side of them, even if it’s just for a quiet moment in time. You see all of the greed, the give-and-take, the tug-and-pull – but you never see the honest grit and rose-tinted tears that go into protecting someone so fiercely. For someone that is so used to taking without caution, how does this meld into everything they’ve ever known? Will their loyalty to each other face as a haunting barrier (I would love to explore the extent of their loyalty – perhaps even test how far they would be willing to go for each other considering Orias has never quite remained loyal to anything)? Would Orias’ biting love for Azazel take precedence over their desire for heredity? For a legacy? For worship and a nearly promised destiny? And if something ever happened to Azazel, would Orias burn everything to the ground? Or would they pry the shattered pieces of themself from her ribcage just like they had once done with Lucifer? And in retrospect, would they guard Azazel the same way if they knew she may not even be able to burn her very own kingdom for them? 

I’m really so interested to see how Orias molds to this connection. The initial rise as they climb over clambered skeletons to reach a state of absolute influence and raw worship – will they bring Azazel along and respect her own vocations? Will they clutch onto the first creature that has made them feel full and so devoutly satiated? Or will they forget where their loyalties lie and extinguish the splintering fire that Azazel has pitted in their core? 

Are you comfortable with killing off your character? | If it was detrimental to the flow of the plot then absolutely.  

IN DEPTH

Driving Character Motivation | What motivates your character’s actions? How does it define them? Where does this motivation stem from?

It starts with Lucifer, clutches to Judas, sinks its bared teeth into the flesh of the Vices – but always ends with them. At large, there are a multitude of staples that contribute to Orias’ actions. As beautiful and as wickedly raw as they are, nothing that comes from their steady hand is sincere – and everything they offer the Holy Land is all but a mockery. Each passing conversation, each calculating glance, each faux notion – it’s all woven from the extenuating pillars they have built upon.

The entirety of their driving motivation seems to inhabit the notions of sacrilegious “greed”, divine “worship”, a bleeding sense of “power”, and a promised “lineage”. Whispered at the sky, the moon, and the stars, it is believed that this is all but what truly keeps the feathers of their wings stirring across the holiest of lands. Never their fellow creatures, never the Realm of Infernum, never any external force – but the outwardly prominent self-factors that dare to devour them whole.

Interestingly enough, I also believe that Orias is motivated by their abilities (the power they harness, the ability to receive something promising in exchange for it, etc.) – prognostications, incantations, the subtle but forceful touch of a wicked alchemist. They’re very much aware of their potential as the Original Witch and in turn, I think somewhat of a God complex, as well as festering greed, became a main driving force for them. It’s also no secret that Orias is convinced they’re meant to leave a blistering mark on everything they touch – and for a heavy price. Because if they weren’t, why would they be granted such heady capabilities?       

To sum this absolute mess up, Orias was never brought into this world to want or need anything besides things that contributed to their own personal gain – worship (whether it’s honest or not), a molded destiny, and a warm body to carry all of their new rites and tomes (a very one-track mind if you will). So, these outright motivations, goals, desires – it all derived from their wants, their needs, their abilities and I truly believe that’s what makes them such an unwavering force (as well as extremely selfish). 

Character Traits | OPTIONAL. Please list 3 positive traits and 3 negative traits that you identify in the character you’re applying for. 

Positive – Calculating, Influential, Authoritative, Meticulous, Entrancing.  

Negative – Insatiable, Patronizing, Egocentric, Despotic, Duplicitous. 

In-Character Para Sample | There is no minimum or maximum word count to this para sample, but we do encourage that you highlight your character’s VOICE and MANNERISMS within it.

Macerating chaos. Outlying, starving howls that would bleed onto canvases for eons to come. The unrestrained syllables of Judas advising the rise. The uproar – the new age. But Orias heard nothing of it. Not even the unbridled rage that flooded past Lucifer’s lips, as the pillars he built upon began to deteriorate underneath his unsparing touch. 

And despite the utter destruction that threatened to swallow them whole, Orias almost looked angelic against the ruins – because not all carnivores came in teeth and claws. Nor did the loss of such features extinguish their want for blood – for starving glory. There are carnivores that hunt in stillness, in elegance, and in false prophecies. They come in heavenly entities, spines exposed to the moon’s bridal-white burn in webs of elaborate lace, throats armored in a rib of emeralds gleaming wet with starlight, the moon cut down and born as moonstones, and strangling silk ties that pooled like opaque salt water. 

There is distraction in their decadence and they are apart of the living breeds of predators that mask themselves in the distraction that innocuous beauty and debauchery allows – the drip of bleeding meat on the mouth dies out to rose-tinted lips, granite-grey wings and silver veils devouring all suspicion in its extravagant darkness. 

Good. Let that be a warning. 

Orias, whose frame was snug in translucent silk and drooping pearls, drifted over and neared the entirety of his putrescent stature. Their last encounter felt almost sincere but it was anything but. He gaped at them expectedly – as if they were meant to go to war for him. How foolish, they thought. But they’ll allow the sentiment to die with him and his kingdom. 

Fingertips reached out to nimbly splay over the crescents of his jaw, their wings nearly caging them in – almost as if to protect the disingenuous moment from prying eyes. “Oh Lucifer.” Bared teeth. A hollowed coo. “You must have known this was your fate all along, no?” An unholy smile that did not quite reach the sable of their eyes. “It is best if you accept it.”

He clutched onto them. They recoiled in revulsion. 

“Oh but you see, I cannot stay.” I am taking every piece with me. 

Aching silence – accompanied by a tight-lipped plea and a knowing stare. But Orias did not flinch.

Instead, they removed themself from his demoralized hold, granite feathers spanning behind them in the process – as if they were mirroring the image of an eclipsed halo. 

“May you find harmony with all you encounter.” A desolate hiss. A depraved leer. A vacant heart. And then they were gone.   

And darkness followed soon after. 

[saiilorstars]

Dare To Forget Me

Ch. 10:  Of All Moms

/ Story Masterlist /

Fandom: Law & Order SVU

Pairing:  Rafael Barba x Original female character

Warnings: Due to the nature of the series’ plots, I do have to rate this as ‘mature’ for constant mentions of rape.

~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ` 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~

Chapter Summary: While SVU deals with a case that reminds Montserrat of a part of her childhood. However, that may cause some future trouble for her...

Montserrat had just sat down to have some breakfast when someone knocked on the door. "You have got to be kidding me," she put her fork down and glared at the door. Sonny had told her he would be coming by to pick her up for work. It was a nice gesture but Montserrat was almost sure it had to do with the fact he wanted to catch brief moments with her roommate instead.

Bitterly, she got up from her chair and went to answer it. Her momentary annoyance was forgotten when she came face to face with a tall, black haired man. However, with the black curls over the man's head it wasn't difficult to place him."Hi, Damian," Montserrat greeted Kara's older brother. "I didn't expect you to be here."

Likewise," Damian Mackie had a charming smile that only seemed to get better as the years passed by.

"Kara didn't tell you I was rooming with her for a while?" Montserrat left the door and went to retrieve her breakfast on the table. Damian walked in and closed the door for them. "I've been here for a couple months now."

"No, I think she did. I just missed it when she rambled on about other things," Damian shrugged, making Montserrat chuckle. "But you look great. I haven't seen you in a while."

"Try two years," Montserrat slipped some oatmeal into her mouth.

"Well it's kinda difficult to get ahold of one of New York's finest Detectives," Damian's dramatic bow was met with a roll of eyes. He chuckled and looked into the hallway. "Is my sister ready? We promised our parents we'd be on time."

"It's so cute they're having a little anniversary day with their kids," Montserrat smiled.

"Well you know, maybe we can catch up afterwards?" Damian casually asked.

"I'd have to check my schedule," Montserrat laughed at such an ironic line. "It's not a lie. My job really is that unpredictable."

There was another knock on the door and this time Montserrat was sure it was her partner. She held her oatmeal bowl and walked for the door despite Damian attempting to do it for her.

"Morning," Sonny stood tall and cheery. He crinkled his nose the moment he smelled oatmeal. "Who eats oatmeal these days? How old are you again?"

"29 you jerk," Montserrat frowned and turned back for the apartment.

Sonny still smiled as he walked into the apartment, but when he saw Damian he immediately got serious. "Morning."

"Uuh, morning," Damian slowly greeted back and glanced at Montserrat.

"He's my partner from work," Montserrat was hurriedly trying to finish her oatmeal. "Sonny, meet Damian. Damian, meet Sonny. Damian is Kara's older brother, my friend and yadda, yadda…"

Sonny shook his head while his partner practically devoured her oatmeal. Still, he shook Damian's hand. "Nice to meet you. Kara mentioned you. Well, she mentioned you and Montse's brother. You're both architects, right?"

"Right," Damian nodded. "We're actually working on an important company building right now."

"I know that," Montserrat swallowed the last of her oatmeal and dumped the bowl into the sink. "I've had to babysit three times in one week because you guys can't get things right."

"Not true," Damian swayed his head. "Sometimes we just wanna get drinks."

Montserrat gave a deadpanning look. "You better be lying."

Damian took one step back and called for his sister. "Hurry up, Kara! Before Montserrat shoots me!"

Kara emerged stuffing things into her purse. "Whatever you did I'm sure you deserve it."

"Oh some sister you are," Damian rolled his eyes.

Kara had a good comeback ready to go before she saw Sonny. She beamed at his presence. "Hi! Are you picking up Montse again?"

The ginger in question shook her head and narrowed her eyes at them. Using me as an excuse to go all googly-eyes on each other.

"Yeah, she asked me to," Sonny didn't even notice the flat out lie he said. Montserrat gaped and had half a mind to smack him. She felt one month into SVU granted her the perk of smacking a co-worker if they deserve it.

"Always so kind," Kara's big smile didn't go unnoticed by her brother.

Damian cleared his throat. "We do have parents waiting. You can do this another time."

Unlike Montserrat who thought about smacking, Kara did it. Damian groaned when his sister's hand smacked him on the chest. "I'll...be in the car…" Damian gave a wave for Montserrat and Sonny then headed out the door.

"I'll see you later," Kara very sweetly told Sonny as if they already had plans.

"Of course," Sonny stepped aside so she could walk out. Kara smiled all the way out, as did Sonny.

"Seriously?" Montserrat crossed her arms and was unamusingly looking at her partner. "You're just gonna stare at my roommate's ass right in front of me?"

"I -I was not-"

"Don't you lie to me, Dominick Carisi," Montserrat pointed at him. "And just so you know, when I use your full name it means I'm serious. And I'm serious right now."

Sonny playfully rolled his eyes. "Are you ready?"

"No! Because you keep showing up early just to meet with Kara and leave me hanging with either half of my breakfast or nothing at all!" Montserrat's exclaim was met with an amused smile. "I need to eat to survive if you've forgotten!" she made way for the living room but stopped just to point at him. "And I definitely didn't like it when you came in ten minutes after my alarm went off! What the hell even was that!?"

Sonny couldn't stop laughing. It had been honest accident that allowed him to see what Montserrat looked like in the morning. He learned that she had a much more colorful vocabulary in the early hours. "Alright, alright, what if I buy you some cannolis to make it up?"

"...turn those into almond brownies and a vanilla latte and you, my friend, have a deal."

Unfortunately, their deal wasn't made through on account of an urgent case they were both called onto. They followed the directions and sure enough came to a building swarming with officers.

"What the hell happened?" Montserrat called to Fin who was overseeing the procession.

"Little girl somehow got out on that balcony. It looks like she's stuck," Fin pointed to the higher levels of the apartment building where they could see a little girl out on a balcony, over a table. She staggered every second or so, threatening to fall over.

"Where are the parents?" Sonny scowled, outraged the little girl was left unsupervised up to that point.

"Neighbors don't know. Amaro and Rollins are with ESU trying to get inside," Fin said and pulled up his phone. "The door's barricaded."

"Is Liv here yet?" Montserrat figured their Sergeant would be inside the building trying to get into that apartment but so far they hadn't heard any communications from the inside.

"Nah, she's at Baby Boy Doe's hearing. She was on her way last I heard."

"What?" the ginger woman said in confusion. "Who?"

"Earlier case," Fin waved it off and focused on the fact two men were throwing ropes over the front of the building. It seemed like the apartment was still inaccessible.

As soon as they had the girl in safety, the remaining detectives rushed into the building. Thankfully, Olivia arrived not too long after that.

"Check it out, someone left her with everything she could possibly need," Nick pointed to the kitchen table of the girl's apartment that was covered in food, toys and movies.

"Yeah except a mom," Montserrat mumbled as she passed him, though she was heard quite fine.

She went into the hallway to see what else they could find but it was a surprisingly clean apartment. Laundry was closed locked but the bedroom and the bathroom weren't. Opposite of her, Sonny and Fin took check of the plumbing and found that the hot water was off, as well as the stove in general.

"Girl's name is Maddie. Mother's Jenny Aschler. We haven't located her yet," Amanda was informing Olivia after the Sergeant arrived.

"How is Maddie?" Olivia peered around the blonde detective to see the young girl sniffling on the couch.

"She's scared, not hurt. She pushed a chair to the balcony door, unlocked it. Says she climbed out there to feed the birds."

"We didn't notice before but these are meals that you can eat without any preparation," Montserrat picked up a pack of crackers. She then reached for grapes that had been neatly pursed into a Ziploc bag. "And others that have already been prepared. My Dad used to do this when my brother and I were young and he had to work overtime. This mom took all the precautions."

"But she did leave her daughter unattended and locked in," Fin reminded her then looked to Amanda for a better explanation of that bit.

"Maddie says her mother left her for two sleeps," Amanda explained quietly so the girl wouldn't hear. "And she was told not to let anyone in."

"What could be so important that a mother would just leave her child like this?" Olivia sighed. Her mind was already particularly clogged with the details of the hearing she'd been in. Mothers not attending to their own children was the worst thing they could do.

"Hey Serg," Sonny came by with his phone in hand. "Found mommy." When he showed them the picture of the woman, things made less sense.

~0~

Jenny Aschler was horrified to hear what happened to her daughter - almost happened thanks to the police. Her nervous eyes flickered between Olivia and Nick. The fact they had to come to prison to talk her already didn't bode well for her.

"Is Maddie okay?"

"Now you're worried?" Nick raised an eyebrow at her, unable to believe if she was being honest or not. The woman already seemed jittery and anxious. "You knew you were on probation. Why were you shoplifting?"

"I-it was Maddie's birthday. She's always wanted one of those, uh, American girl dolls? They're $200," Jenny explained the best she could. "I mean, who has that kind of money? Where is Maddie? I wanna see her."

"She's with child protective services," Olivia saw Jenny's eyes widen even more.

"Just...just till I get out, right? I'm due out in a few hours."

"Listen, you left your six-year-old unsupervised for two days. You can't just get her back," Nick thought that would be been an obvious but Jenny was actually hopeful. "All right, you're looking at new charges here-"

"Hold on, Nick. Slow down," Olivia urges him to take it easy so that they could have a better understanding of Jenny's situation.

"You can't talk to him like that. You're gonna make him mad," Jenny quietly said to Olivia, instigating confused faces from the two.

"Look, I'm not… I'm not mad," Nick started again, and slow for her to understand. "But you left your child alone, all right? This is serious."

"Jenny, you told your public defender that you thought your husband was gonna be able to take care of Maddie," Olivia was sure that they saw that in Jenny's file. They'd even talked to the defender briefly before coming to see Jenny.

"We're separated," Jenny lowered her gaze to the metal table.

"So, what, he bailed on you? He said that he couldn't watch her?"

"I never asked him," Jenny knew how that sounded so she quickly added to explain for herself. "It's too dangerous."

"Dangerous? What do you mean?" Nick asked her.

"Gary can't be alone with Maddie. He has...needs. If I'm not there to take care of them, somebody else has to - I won't leave him alone with my daughter."

Olivia saw honest fear for Maddie and couldn't just ignore it. This was more than a neglect case. "So Gary isn't Maddie's father?"

" No. Maddie's father's in Attica."

"So Gary's Maddie's stepfather? Has he ever acted inappropriately with her? Has she said something?"

Jenny looked up from the table, her reddened eyes looking between Olivia and Nick. There was a lot tell.

~0~

Montserrat and Amanda were both amazed at what kind of men surrounded Jenny Aschler's life. Between them and Fin, they had reconstructed the connections between Jenny, Bobby Aschler and Gary Aschler.

"This woman's had a tough life," Montserrat mumbled as she pinned a photograph of Jenny at the center of their board.

"Yeah, Bobby Aschler-" Amanda looked up from her laptop to point at the indicated photograph of the man, "-is Maddie's biological father and he has a long record. The lovely ending is he's now doing a bid in Attica for cooking meth."

"This prince, he pimps Jenny out, gets her pregnant at 16, and then just turns her over to his brother Gary," Montserrat took a seat at the edge of the table. "And she has quite a long record too."

"Anything outstanding?" Olivia inquired.

"Define that," Fin leaned back on his chair. "I mean, she's been in and out of jail from multiple drug arrests which only stopped two years ago."

Olivia put her hands on her hips and gazed at the board they had set up. Despite Nick and Sonny not being back from their visit to Gary, they'd managed to pull up several pieces of information on Jenny that just didn't equal to a terrible, neglectful mother. "She sounds more like a probable domestic violence victim. I'm not sure that charging Jenny with neglect of a child is in Maddie's best interest. If Jenny does more jail time, the stepfather may ask for custody."

"Not if he's in jail too," Montserrat threw in the option they would all love.

"Yeah, but that'll only happen if we can get Jenny to testify against him."

"So...we talk to her again?" Amanda asked.

Olivia gave the nod. "If we can convince family court that she's a D.V. Victim, maybe she and Maddie can get the help they need."

~ 0 ~

Despite Jenny being released from prison, she looked no better. With her daughter ripped from her, she seemed even worse than when she was in prison. She took a seat in the interview room and anxiously watched Amanda and Nick come in. They didn't beat around the bush, they just cautiously began to interrogate her about her life at home, especially where it concerned Gary.

"Well, of course Gary never touched Maddie. I won't give him the chance," Jenny took to playing with the tips of her hair. It seemed like a nervous tick as she tugged on the tips.

"So what makes you afraid that he'll do something?" Amanda proceeded to push for more specific details. "Cause he hurts you?"

"He-he has needs, like all men."

"So what does he do to you, Jenny?" Nick's question was met with silence. He sighed and pushed again. "Look, you have to start talking to us. If you're lying to get back at Gary, you're gonna be in trouble here-"

"Stop yelling!" Jenny suddenly exclaimed, getting silence despite almost shrinking back in her chair. Her eyes quickly met Nick's and revealed momentary terror in them. "I'll be good. I promise. I'll do whatever you want."

Nick was at a loss in that moment. He was pretty sure he hadn't been shouting. Maybe he'd spoken a little louder than he had wanted but it definitely was not yelling. "Jenny, you don't have to - Hey, Jenny, nobody's yelling-"

Someone knocked against the window of the room, letting know someone had to come out. Nick knew who that would be. With a sigh, he got up from his seat and returned to Olivia's office where the rest of the team was. "Look, I wasn't even pushing her that hard-"

"It's not you," Olivia assured him no one was blaming him. "It's something else going on here."

"Care to take a wild guess?" Montserrat was leaning against the window and attentively listening into Jenny's interview.

It came as no surprise to anyone when Jenny disclosed that her husband Gary was taking advantage of her under the guise of marriage privilege.

~0~

"Jenny Aschler abandons her six-year-old, claims she's afraid her husband will abuse her kid, and now she's accusing him of raping her?" Rafael wanted to ask if there was a list somewhere that gave anything else the woman was claiming.

"No, weren't you listening?" Montserrat tapped her index finger to her ear for emphasis. "She thinks because they're married, it isn't rape."

Behind her chair, Olivia was pacing back and forth. The case was obviously more frustrating for the Sergeant and now Rafael was wondering how long it would take her to make a hole in his office. Amanda, who sat in the chair next to Montserrat, wondered the same thing.

"So she hasn't said no, she's living in fear, and you think she's gonna agree to confront this guy in court?" Rafael knew those odds and had to scoff out loud. "I'm a prosecutor. She needs a social worker."

Olivia came to a right stop at his words. "Hang on, this is more than a simple child neglect case. The only reason that Jenny left Maddie alone-"

"-for two days while she went to jail…?" Rafael finished for her though earned himself exact glares from her and Montserrat.

"Seriously, aren't you listening?" Montserrat genuinely asked again. "She only did that because she thought her daughter was unsafe with the stepfather. You have to trust a mother's instincts."

"Yeah, Fin and Amaro went and saw this guy. They say she made the right call," Amanda then added on.

Rafael swayed his head while he thought about the not-so-subtle plan the three women were clearly on. "So you want me to charge the husband with D.V., so a family court judge will give her a second chance?"

"Jenny was wrong to leave Maddie alone. There's no doubt about that, but she's also a victim," Olivia didn't think she needed to be so descriptive but if he wanted it all then she would be. "She suffers with symptoms of PTSD. The father is in Attica, and this guy should be there too."

"Seriously…" Montserrat tapped her ear again, nodding at him to go on.

Rafael playfully rolled his eyes at her. "Alright, fine. See if he's dumb enough to confess to something he doesn't realize is a crime."

"Thank you," Olivia gave the nod of gratitude and started leaving first.

"See how easy it is when you just listen," Montserrat's comment made it difficult for Amanda not to chuckle.

Rafael was not so amused. "Oh yeah, so brave when all three of you come in against me."

"Didn't think you so scared so easily, councilor," Amanda's remark then made Montserrat laugh.

As Amanda walked towards the door, Montserrat quickly leaned over the desk just to whisper, "Kind of puts the belt to shame, don't you think?"

While she laughed, Rafael glared. "Get out of my office," his command was simple and calm. Though he was straight faced, unamused, a smile wormed its way across his face when he heard her laugh echo from the hallway.

~0~

When Montserrat returned home, she was surprised to find not only her roommate, but Damian and Montserrat's older brother, Gael. Kara was sitting at the couch flipping through a magazine while the two men discussed in the kitchen.

"Uh, hi," Montserrat said slowly since none of them acknowledged the fact she'd just walked in.

Kara waved but was more focused on her magazine. "I'm trying to learn this hairstyle for the salon, shush!"

Montserrat rolled her eyes and walked towards her brother instead, leaving her things over the table. "Gael, what are you doing here? What about Ivana and Juliana?"

"Dad's with them," Gael came over and hugged his sister hello. "I didn't think I'd catch you. Kara says you don't come home until midnight sometimes."

"When she's lucky," Kara made sure to add.

"Go back to your hair, Mackie," snapped Montserrat before answering her brother. "The hours are all over the place but that's not important. What are you doing here?"

"My fault," Damian waved a hand. "We're getting back from my parent's anniversary when Gael called with a problem from work."

"Is everything alright?"

"Just the usual. Customers who aren't satisfied with our work," Gael rolled his dark eyes. "I was already in Manhattan so I thought it be easier to meet here. That a problem?"

Montserrat chuckled. "And miss the chance to make fun of my big brother? Never."

Gael shook his head. "I was done anyways. We're thinking of dropping by Casey's tomorrow to see if she can help us."

"Casey is at court most of the day. Good luck with that.."

It seemed like the men were considering her comment, leading Montserrat to conclude whatever problems they were having at work must be big. Casey was a prosecutor, after all, not there for personal problems.

"I thought your job has lawyers of their own," Montserrat commended and grabbed a coke bottle from the kitchen table without caring whose it was. As she headed for the living room, she missed Gael's glare for stealing his bottle. Montserrat sat down beside Kara and the blonde roommate immediately chucked her magazine to the side and turned to Montserrat's hair.

"Yeah but we want someone who won't mind explaining us the exact details of the problem," Gael went into the kitchen and when they heard the fridge opening, it was assumed he would be getting another coke.

"And exactly why would you think Casey wouldn't shout at your ass for being annoying?" Montserrat took a swig of her stolen coke bottle, scrunching her face when Kara pulled on her hair.

"Sorry! I'm trying the hair style!" Kara apologized and went right back to work.

"Do you think your cousin will really mind if we go talk to her?" Damian asked, his seriousness coming off as amusing to the two siblings.

"Nah," Montserrat shook her head, though Kara stopped her with hands pressed to both sides of Montserrat's head.

"See our cousin is sharp and possibly evil, but she loves a good contract," Gael returned from the kitchen with a coke bottle. "And she's family."

"She'll kill you if she ever hears you call her evil," Montserrat muttered. "And I will remind you she's a Homicide ADA so she'll know how to make it look like an accident."

Gael rolled his eyes. "It's getting late and I gotta get back to my girls."

"Yeah, you keep leaving my nieces alone," Montserrat pointed at her brother in warning. "You know I'm dealing with a case of a mother who left her daughter alone for two days."

"Hey I left my girls with a good babysitter," Gael reminded her. "I'd never leave them alone. I'm not a bad parent."

"...but Dad used to leave us alone sometimes," Montserrat's comment made him pause just as he was getting his jacket from the kitchen table.

Gael shot his sister a look, looking offended but not for him. "Don't you ever imply that our father was a bad parent."

"I'm not-" Montserrat didn't seem the least fazed even when he continued with an increasing louder voice.

"-Dad had to work sometimes and there was no one to look after us! Everyone else worked and they couldn't just leave their jobs-"

"-Gael, I know-"

"If you want to talk about a bad parent then maybe you should think about Regina instead." Gael angrily put on his jacket, ignoring the wide-eyed looks from Damian and Kara. He wasn't even going to dignify his sister with a glance. "She's the bad parent for what she did to us."

With those words, he stormed out of the apartment.

"Uuh…" Kara stopped doing Montserrat's hair - which seemed more like a wild mess than anything else - and leaned back. "What just happened?"

"I made my big brother mad, story of my life," Montserrat put her coke bottle on the coffee table.

"Montse, are you okay?" Damian walked over to the couch and sat on the arm rest.

"Don't worry about it," Montserrat scoffed lightly. "I'm used to Gael's attitude when it comes to Regina." She pushed herself up from the couch, knowing she was being watched by the Mackies.

"Who's Regina?" Damian asked.

"My mother," Montserrat answered on her way into the hallway.

~ 0 ~

Olivia thought bringing Jenny to a psychiatrist would help them better in her case, but she ultimately got more than what they thought they would. The brief evaluation brought SVU to Jenny's mother - who had nothing but bad things to say about Jenny - and that then gave them view of what happened to Jenny as a child.

Now, the conference area was full of photographs of Jenny as a child that the squad was looking through. They were all pretty suggestive but nothing against the law.

"How old was she in these?" Amanda stopped when she found a particular photograph that made her want to stop altogether.

"Five, six, seven," Nick answered, since he and Fin were the ones who had returned with the photographs from Jenny's mother. "Stepfather took all of them."

"These are the photos he gave to Jenny's mother?" Montserrat gawked at how clueless the mother had to be for her not to realize what her ex-husband was doing. "Where are the ones that he kept for himself?"

"Let's find out," Olivia was already a step ahead by the time the rest of the squad finished going through the pictures.

She'd gotten ahold of a contact who came back with answers rather fast. And since those answers were rather awful, it required the presence of the entire squad and their ADA. Now they were all gazing at new pictures of Jenny they could have gone without seeing.

Agent O'Connell from the FBI was the one to expose the team to the actual, deeper truth of Jenny Aschler. "I recognized her right away," the man admitted as he switched through some of the photos they had. "We searched for her for over a decade. Called her 'Lacy unknown.'"

"Lacy is the name that the stepfather calls her in the videos," Amanda remembered. "How many videos are we talking about?"

"Hundreds. And thousands of stills. There's videos of her being tied up, raped, sodomized. Some of them were customized. He would take requests, posing her. She has chat rooms devoted to her."

"And so...the mother never realized that this was happening to her kid?" Montserrat couldn't think of a more clueless (or purposely blind) mother than Jenny's.

"Whether or not, we can't exactly prove it," Nick bitterly said beside her.

"We kept looking for Lacy, but after a while, we assumed there's no way she survived her childhood," O'Connell turned off the screen. "I'm shocked she's still alive. But for what it's worth, there's a couple hundred guys in prison for downloading her images."

The last bit interested Rafael most. "These videos are still being distributed even a decade later?" he asked just to confirm.

"Every day in every country in the world. A lot of pedophiles are collectors. They share clips, trade files on the darknet. As fast as we pull sites down, new ones pop up."

"One favor. Notify me when you find someone new in possession of these images."

"Of course," O'Connell agreed and started gathering his belongings to leave.

"Thank you for coming," Olivia said on his way out.

"So how do we move from here?" Sonny wondered after it was just them again. It was a tricky case since most sides were already shut by law.

"The stepfather took these videos, and he's the one in the videos raping her," Rafael moved so that he could face the entire squad. "Where is he?"

"Jerry Dobbs. He died in a car accident two years ago," Fin responded, looking bitter about it too. Jail time would've been a been a more fitting punishment than sweet death.

"I hope he suffered," Rafael muttered before switching tactics. "What about the mom?"

"Mom couldn't have been that clueless," Montserrat shook her head. "She must have known."

Olivia scoffed there. "Well, if you let her tell it, her daughter's been nothing but trouble ever since she was born."

Rafael knew where she was going with that and would not let her. "You can't make that case. Let it go."

"Let it go?" Olivia repeated, her mouth falling in open incredulity. "So nobody has to pay for what was done to Jenny?"

"There may be one avenue of recourse, if Jenny is capable of handling it," Rafael said once Olivia calmed a bit. He wasn't going to subject himself to a round of shouts.

'She's emotionally fragile. She's so traumatized, she doesn't remember this stuff. She's blocked it out-"

"Maybe if you show her these images…"

"Now hold on," Montserrat cut in once she and the rest of the team caught onto the intention. "You want us to show Jenny…" she pointed to the darkened screen behind Rafael, "...that?"

Before he could point out it was the only way to get Jenny some retribution, Amanda chimed in. "She has been acting out her whole life, high-risk behavior, but, you know, she has a right to know what's been triggering her."

"That's the emotional argument," Rafael pointed at her and continued on with what he'd been trying to get at for minutes now. "Legally, there's a possibility of restitution. But first Jenny has to identify herself as Lacy unknown."

"Ah, and you leave that assignment to us," Sonny's sarcasm was a shared sentiment amongst the squad.

"Who else would take it?" Rafael had good sense to take his leave. He definitely loved being a prosecutor sometimes.

The rest of the squad almost drew sticks to see who would get the assignment. In the end, Olivia made the graceful sergeant move and volunteered.

Amanda drew the smallest stick.

~0~

Days later brought no better moments for Jenny. After realizing - and accepting - she was Lacy, she was institutionalized to help her get back on her feet. Montserrat and Olivia visited Jenny when they felt Jenny would be able to have a conversation without affecting her health.

Jenny appeared better than the last time they'd seen her. Yes, she did appear to be a little jittery but it was nothing compared to the first time they met her.

"So how you doing, Jenny?" Olivia decided to start easy.

"I feel better," Jenny quickly said, as of her answer would carry the weight of whether or not she'd see her daughter again. And it probably did. "The first week, I just slept through, adjusting my meds. There's group crafts." She made a brief glance at the nearby tables in the room where several patients were immersed into small art crafts. "How's Maddie?"

"She's fine. She's in a foster home," Montserrat answered almost as fast as Jenny had. She assumed Jenny could only think about whether or not her daughter was fine. "And the doctors say you can Skype with her. We can help you set that up."

Jenny tried to smile but she ended up biting her lower lip. "I'm not gonna get her back, am I?"

"You just have to take care of yourself now so you can take care of her," Olivia said kindly, hoping that Jenny would see this was only for the best.

Still, Jenny could not find much peace. "The social worker told me medicaid won't let me stay too much longer, and Gary's so mad. He's not paying my rent."

"You're in for a fight, Jenny, but that's where this restitution money we talked about can help you," Montserrat reminded. Yes, the money's origin was not a good one but the intention of the money was.

Olivia cleared her throat before she cautiously started to explain the real reason they were visiting Jenny. "There's a sentencing hearing coming up soon. It's... it's an EMT who's convicted of possession. But you could write a victim's statement. It's a... it's a letter."

Jenny tried to follow, and she was. "A letter?" the two women nodded for her answer. Jenny considered her options, and her feelings, clearly for the first time. If she deserved some restitution then she thought she also deserved to face at least one person who had hurt her in her life. "If it's okay, I wanna go. I want him to look me in the eyes. I want him to see me."

Both Montserrat and Olivia exchanged surprised glances. Of course they would let Jenny go, they just hoped she would be strong enough to follow through.

~0~

"You can put that one over there," Amanda pointed Fin to an empty spot on the interview table.

"Nick, that one can go there," Montserrat nodded to the small space at the edge of the table, opposite of Fin.

"You know, you two could help," Sonny said as he walked into the room carrying another box of papers. He, Fin and Nick simultaneously shot Montserrat and Amanda identical glares for their lack of assistance.

"Put some muscle into it and keep bringing them in," Amanda motioned the three to go get more of the boxes.

They were bringing in the notifications of arrests from the Lacy unknown case for when Jenny would stop by. Unfortunately, there were a lot of boxes to bring in and Montserrat and Amanda took the 'supervising' job.

"Are those - are those brownies?" Fin stopped when he caught Montserrat handing a brownie to Amanda.

"We're waiting for lunch to be delivered," Montserrat shrugged.

"You're both a lot of help," Sonny put down another box on an empty chair.

"Easy there Carisi, or I won't let you into my apartment for Kara anymore," Montserrat smirked when she drew the right attention from the rest of the team. Sonny looked ready to murder her on the spot.

"What's this?" Amanda began in a teasing manner. "Does our baby face have a crush on a girl?"

"That's not - stop looking at me like that!" Sonny snapped, but it didn't help when he heard Fin laugh from behind.

"If you're all done teasing, I could use some help," Nick said since he was the only one still bringing boxes in.

"Thank you," Sonny gestured at Nick as a prime example of what professionalism looked like.

"I'm sure we can discuss this crush at lunch," Nick made the remark as Sonny headed out of the room.

"God dammit!" they then heard the cry of the lanky detective.

Almost as soon as they were finished filling the interview room with boxes, Jenny and Olivia returned from their trip to court. Despite not being able to directly ask how the sentencing had gone, they could see Jenny was looking better. Still, it came to falter when she realized what was in the interview room.

"What's all this?" she sifted through a box without actually looking into the papers.

"As part of this process, the FBI has to notify the victim of each individual arrest. And there was a long backlog of 'Lacy unknown' downloads, so, during your recovery, we had them sent here," Olivia explained and soon began to see Jenny once again shrink in her spot.

"So I have to open all of these letters and then go to court and testify every time?" Jenny gazed at all the boxes in the room and though they multiplied in that one moment.

"Most of these men have been convicted. You can file a civil suit. But where you have the most leverage, Jenny, is with men that are awaiting sentencing."

"Every time," Jenny said in disbelief. "So I'm gonna be dealing with this for the rest of my life?" she didn't need Olivia to answer to know. "I can't. I just can't do it. I just can't!"

"Jenny-"

"Thank you, but no…" Jenny couldn't help herself and rushed out of the room.

When Olivia emerged from the interview room, the face she wore expressed everything that'd gone wrong. "Well…" she came to up the closest desk which was Fin's.

"I assume she didn't like the boxes," Amanda went first.

"No," Olivia confirmed. "It's going to be hard for her accept it…"

"It would be for anyone, Liv," Fin said as a means of comfort for the sergeant. Anyone who knew Olivia would know that by now she was blaming herself even when she had no logical fault.

"Hey, we just saw Jenny and she didn't look so good," Montserrat said when she and Sonny walked into the bullpen with their carry-out.

"It's a process," Olivia left it at that.

"Well, lunch is served," Sonny put down each member's order on their desk. "Tips are accepted."

"But not required," Nick made a motion for the man to step away with his waiting hand.

Sonny rolled his eyes and returned to his desk. As Olivia went to take her order from Montserrat, she saw Rafael coming in with an unusual expression. "Hey. You're smiling, Barba. Why is that freaking me out?"

"I've seen him smile - when he eats," Montserrat's remark earned herself various snickers from the rest of the squad, but not from the ADA.

"Sit, eat, be quiet," he pointed her back to her desk. Montserrat dutifully returned to her desk but still smirked proudly. "I came in with good news," Rafael went on to explain before she took another jab, which she seemed to enjoy doing a lot. "Jenny may have caught the first break of her life. The list that Corbett gave us with other pedophiles has a CEO on it. Roger Pierce, worth 20 million."

"How does that help Jenny?" Olivia forgone her lunch in that moment.

"I reread the violence against women act. Technically, the way the law is worded, it mandates that each offender compensates the victim for all losses. The forensics team that you put on this estimated Jenny's need for restitution at over 4 million." And that's where Rafael's smile returned, quite wide too. "I'm going after Pierce for all of it. It's called joint and several liability. He's free to chase after the rest of Jenny's victimizers to collect the money. It becomes his problem, not hers."

"We can actually do that?" Amanda asked just to make sure they weren't going to lead Jenny down a farce.

"I'm going to do it in…" Rafael checked his wrist watch, "...about an hour when you bring Roger Pierce down. Eat lunch fast, will you?"

"Wow, you're still good," Montserrat said, this time getting a smirk back from him. "Oh, so that doesn't earn me a snap?"

"Not when you say smart things," he promptly quipped with. "So, what are we eating?"

"Not steak, so don't even ask," she motioned with a finger for him to come to her desk so he could see what lunch was.

"As long as it's nothing barbecued," he playfully warned her.

The mere act raised questionable looks from the rest of the team. The detective and ADA seemed a bit too comfortable with each other as if this wasn't the first time.

What an odd sight it was.

~0~

"Hi, do you know where I can find Detective Novak?" Kara Mackie stopped Fin and Nick as they emerged from the interview room, both carrying boxes of Jenny's case.

"She should be here, helping," Fin said rather sourly though knew Montserrat wasn't the only one who was avoiding the helping of bringing Jenny's papers back to storage.

"Did you need help?" Nick asked the woman neither of them had ever seen before.

"I'm her roommate, Kara Mackie," Kara stuck a hand out to shake but remembered neither man could afford letting go of their boxes. "We just had plans tonight."

"Lucky break you have," Nick nodded towards the hallway where they could hear conversations coming closer. He left Kara with the promise that Montserrat was coming then followed Fin out with the boxes in hands.

"So that's it? We're done with Jenny's case?" Amanda was asking.

"Pierce paid all of the $4 million of the restitution so it's done," Rafael confirmed. "You can tell Jenny tomorrow when it's all in paper."

"Seriously, you're good," Montserrat remarked with a matching impressed smile on her face.

"You still had doubts?"

Montserrat rolled her eyes, along with the others around them.

"I'm going to call Jenny right now and tell her the good news," Olivia said before making a beeline for her office. She didn't want Jenny going to sleep tonight with the idea that her life was going to remain a mess.

"Kara?" it was Sonny who noticed the blonde roommate standing near their desks.

Of course Kara broke into a big smile when she saw him. "Sonny, hi."

"That the one?" Amanda whispered to Montserrat who went 'mhm' in response.

"What are you doing here? Are you alright?" Sonny asked Kara, for a moment believing the worst.

Kara was quick to ease his thoughts. "I'm fine! I'm really fine! I-I just had plans with Montse."

"Oh…" Sonny sheepishly smiled and glanced back at his audience.

"Smooth," Montse said under her breath before moving towards her roommate.

"I'm Kara Mackie, by the way," Kara extended a hand towards Amanda.

The blonde detective smiled knowingly, eyes flickering to Sonny every second or so. "We know."

"And I'm not drunk this time so hello, properly," Kara smiled at Rafael, though a bit embarrassed from her drunken moment at the restaurant months ago.

"Nice to see you again, Kara," he nodded.

"Ready to go?" Montserrat asked Kara afterwards, already smiling. "I'm in a good mood today."

"That's new in this job," Kara blurted out, not that it mattered for Montserrat.

"We just watched him blackmail $4 million out of a stuck up, pedophilic CEO," Montserrat pointed over to Rafael.

"I did not blackmail-"

"-kind of what it looked like."

Rafael tilted his head in mild offence then glanced at Amanda and Sonny to see what they thought. Amanda made a face, indicating she was inclining towards Montserrat's claim. Sonny made a hand gesture indicating he was half and half.

"You know what, I'd like to see either of you try the same and succeed," he left things at that. That earned himself some rolling eyes.

"Relax, councilor, we're just teasing," Montserrat raised her hands to show she was done. She backed up to her desk to grab her purse and jacket. "I'll bring you some...what did I say I would bring next time it was my turn?"

"French food. You said French food," Rafael said a bit too fast.

"Of course you remembered," Montserrat swung her purse around her shoulder. "But next time you get me Chinese food." She flashed him a smirk then started heading out with Kara.

"We'll see," Rafael said but of course Montserrat knew there was no doubt he would follow through with his promise. It'd been like this for weeks now, after all. He noticed the odd stares from the others and realized what they must be thinking. "I'm going to see how Liv made that call," he decided and turned right for Olivia's office.

Montserrat walked alongside Kara towards the elevator, but she was dealing with her nosy roommate. "Kara, what do you want for dinner?"

"Uuh, whatever the hell you and the ADA are having apparently," Kara's smirk could crack her face in two.

"Don't even start," Montserrat pressed the elevator button and waited for the doors to open. "I've got a lot of material of you and Sonny, if you're going to play this game."

"But you are having meals with him?" Kara put a hand on Montserrat's arm.

"Not like that, they've just been...business lunches and dinners," Montserrat shook Kara's hand off her and tried to keep a straight face. She knew how it sounded, but honestly it'd been exactly what she said. Somehow, they'd fallen into a routine of buying lunch or dinner for each other every once in a while. It was nothing fancy, and definitely nothing promising, but just a simple...gesture.

It was just that. It really was...

"Lunches and dinners?" Kara laughed.

"We take turns paying, it's not a big deal!" Montserrat stepped into the elevator and turned around, catching sight of Kara's big smirk.

"Mhm," Kara nudged Montserrat on the side. "So how come you're blushing?"

"Shut up."

Kara's laughter filled the elevator.

[fericita-s]

First Days

New installment of When All Is Lost, a series about Young Agnarr and Youg Iduna by @the-spastic-fantastic and me. Thank you @the-spastic-fantastic for beta-ing and squealing with me over how cute these two are. This story takes place when they are both 14, and Agnarr has just started a new school in the kingdom.

***

Three days into the academy, and he still hadn’t talked to her.  He had seen her from a distance on the first day when he gave a welcome speech to the inaugural class of students. As he told the incoming scholars they were “part of a new endeavor, keeping our kingdom hopeful for the future and fulfilling our promises to Arendelle’s heroes of the past that we will continue to grow and build on our strength,” he saw her in the courtyard with the others from Eir’s. She was the only one who had affected a mock-serious face, nodding with an overly furrowed brow as he spoke. But the children were soon taken to various parts of the castle for lessons in history and science and geography and he was left to do the work of the kingdom.

But there didn’t seem to be a lot to do today.  His tutors were overseeing the classes, and though they would eventually return to teaching him, he had directed them to give the academy all their energies for the first few weeks. So he found himself pacing the halls of the castle, walking on the grounds, and taking entirely unnecessary trips to the stables and other outbuildings to see if he could find a way and a reason to talk to Iduna again. Though it was a brisk January day, he took a book with him to the castle grounds and sat under a tree to read. He hoped from that vantage point he would be able to see Iduna and the others as they took a midday break, and that he might have the chance to talk to her. The story was really interesting; a respite from what his tutors usually had him read.  It was about a mermaid who came to live on land out of love for a prince – a mermaid who he pictured looking remarkably like Iduna. He must have been captivated by it because he was completely shocked when Iduna fell out of the tree, landed gracefully on her feet, and laughed at his surprise.

“Iduna!”

“What are you reading, Your Majesty?” She was flushed, probably from hanging upside down from a tree, but not out of breath or at all nervous to be talking to a king.

Agnarr, startled and pleased, tried to answer in a voice that wouldn’t betray his excitement at seeing her or horror at being caught unaware while he was thinking about her. “Oh, some new Danish author.”

“We’re reading a lot for the academy. I like all the books on plants. You have plants here that I’d never heard of before. Like, look,” she grabbed his hand, and pulled him towards a holly bush, further along the path to the castle proper. ‘We don’t have these where I’m from.” Agnarr willed his hand not to sweat as she continued to hold it, pointing out foxglove here, a spruce tree over there, a pine up ahead. Iduna seemed completely unaware that he was very aware of their hands touching, and eventually she dropped it to wave to some of the other children from Eir’s.

“Our teacher, Mr. Botner, says we’ll go collecting on the skerries one day. I’ve never done that before, we weren’t close to the ocean where I’m from.  I didn’t know what he was talking about and thought they were floating islands of fruits!” She laughed.  “We have rivers and lakes, but not saltwater. So I just know there will be a lot to learn about the animals too! Mr. Botner said there are six kinds of reptiles, and most live on the shoreline, and we’ll try to catch them soon to study. I’ve seen some snakes before but he told us about a something called a loggerhead sea turtle! It’s as big as a wagon wheel! Have you seen one?”

Agnarr shook his head. “No, they are pretty rare.  No ocean? I thought you came here from far away? You didn’t travel by boat?”

“No, I – “ her demeanor immediately changed. Her face, earlier animated and eager to share what she was learning, seemed fearful, maybe even panicked.  Agnarr raised a hand to reassure her, but then put it back down.  She had grasped his hand comfortably, but he wasn’t sure where to touch her.  Her shoulder? Her hand? Instead he clapped it back down on his own thigh, wincing at the awkwardness of it.

“It’s fine, you don’t have to tell me. I’m sure wherever you came from it was hard getting here. We’ve had loss here too, and I should have known better than to ask you that.”

Iduna was recovering, finding words again “That’s alright. I don’t really know how to explain getting here. I don’t like thinking about it.” She reached to her hair, rearranging some tendrils that had escaped, smoothed her skirt, and kept her eyes on the nearby foxglove.

“I’m sorry you had to leave your home. Did you go to school before? Where you came from?” He immediately wished he hadn’t, she visibly winced and her smile faltered. “I’m sorry, forgive me, that’s something else best left alone. You’re here now, and you don’t need to tell me anything about where you were before.  We’ll just learn about here together.  I had no idea plants were so interesting.”

Iduna let out a breath, feeling her panic subside. She noticed the others from Eir’s waving to her again. “They’re about to eat before the next class starts.  You should come join us. Everyone really likes the school. They could tell you about it.”

Agnarr couldn’t make his voice sound as calm this time as he answered her, and he cringed as his voice cracked “Well I didn’t bring any food out here, but give me a moment and I can bring something out.”

***

“The King is coming! I see him riding up the hill!” Eydis Runde ran in to the kitchen, breathless, and pulled on Eir’s apron strings. “He’s coming! Do you think he has more presents?”

Eir wiped her hands on her apron, and then on Eydis’ shoulders to make the little girl laugh. “Let’s go find out, shall we?”

By the time the king and his palace guard arrived and dismounted, the children at Eir’s were outside, watching with curiosity. Some of the younger children watched while also hiding behind their older siblings. Iduna, holding Stig’s and Iggy’s hands so they wouldn’t throw themselves in front of a horse or try to grab a soldier’s sword, stayed on the porch.

“Welcome, King Agnarr. Come inside before the cold gets to you.  You too,” she directed, motioning for the children to go back inside.

The guards found themselves pulled in different directions by some of the less reserved children.

“Come look at my bell! It still works!”

“What do you feed your horse?”

“Can I feed your horse?”

“I didn’t mean to cause a fuss,” Agnarr said, once he and Iduna were in a sitting room, holding cups of glogg that neither was drinking. “I didn’t mean for the little ones to get cold outside.”

“Most of them like the excitement of a visitor. It makes them feel important.  Like they haven’t been forgotten.”

Agnarr wanted to say something about how she was important, and how he could never forget her, and that he was excited whenever he saw her, and was she excited too?

Instead he said “I brought you something. I thought you could use it for school, for all of the field work you will be doing.” He unstrapped a leather bag from his shoulder and handed it to her.  It was well-made, soft and dark, with a strap that could be made short or long with a clasp. It was small enough that she could use it to collect plants or even a few insect species while on a walk without being overburdened.  She could probably even fit in some other supplies, like a flint or water skin.

“It’s beautiful!”

He wanted to say “You’re beautiful,” but instead he smiled, pleased that his gift pleased her, and pleased she would say so.

***

“Iduna,” Eir stood in the doorway.   “Come speak with me for a moment before bed.” Iduna finished tucking Iggy into bed, with a promise that she would tell him all about her classes at the academy when she got home the next day. She followed Eir to the kitchen and sat on a stool, hoping she wasn’t in for an evening of peeling potatoes or cutting onions.

“King Agnarr visited you today.”

Iduna nodded.

“The king is your age, but he is king. And though you might dress like a boy when you are here, you are a young lady and I believe you need to start thinking about acting like one.” Her words were firm, but there was a kindness in her voice, a deep concern in her eyes.

Iduna felt heat rise to her cheeks, and she wasn’t sure why.

“We should wear your dresses here too, not just in town, and we can get shoes that fit made before too long. You should make an effort to be less…distinct.”

Iduna looked into Eir’s eyes, and wondered if there was a hidden message there. Did Eir know why she dressed the way she did? Had she heard of Northuldra, of the man killed in the woods, of a people who had betrayed and killed King Runegard?  Iduna couldn’t read any of that in her gaze, and looked away, confused.

“Being a friend of the king is a good thing to be, but holding his hand, sitting alone with him in a room…you’re not young enough or old enough for that to happen without comment from others. Comments that you will suffer for, not him.”

That night, Iduna had a hard time falling asleep.  She kept thinking about Agnarr’s gift, the thoughtfulness it showed, and their time together on the castle grounds. He had seemed like the boy she met in the woods, not the sad, distant king she had seen on her first visit in to town. He had asked questions about her past, but hadn’t pressed when she hadn’t answered. She wanted to be his friend, she wanted to trust him. She wanted to spend time with someone who had been with the Northuldra, played with the Wind Spirit, seen the river pooled up at the mighty dam, even if he couldn’t remember. She wanted a connection to her home and her people. And it seemed her clothing was one more way she would have to give them up.

She turned over in bed and looked at the dress Eir had laid out for her. She thought of her boots, and how Eydis had laughed at her stuffing them with water sedge and how Jac had asked so many questions about what it was and why she was using it that she realized it was not a normal way Arendellians insulated their boots. She would wear the right clothes and the right shoes. She could stop holding the king’s hand in public when they talked.  She could never be alone in a room with him.  She could do all of that to stay safe, to avoid being seen as different. If the cost was being left for dead in the woods, she could live with the changes.

Agnarr had an easy time falling asleep.  It was the first time in what felt like forever that he didn’t feel lonely.